The green screen shows the weather
so calm. A peaceful gauze of blue
and white swathe the nation.
Occasionally there are tiny swirls
dappled throughout the panel.
The weatherman speaks with much tranquility,
assuring only the best of conditions.
Beneath the screen is a much more
ruthless situation. With flashing lighting bolts
and earsplitting collisions of thunder.
Underneath (they conveniently forget to show)
the constant blemishes of pandemonium.
Yesterday, they predicted a powerful thunderstorm
and I agree. It was much overdue.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem