its way up the East Coast. The graphic clearly shows us
in range of its path but I can't help but laugh. I am always
to the left of what goes on in the center, never not
west of what will happen. The Cone
of Uncertainty is not just a current
address, it is where I live. Weathering
the weather is my full time job. All fronts
converge in my forecast. Storms bring
real danger, leave broken things in their wake
to be picked through, discarded or repaired.
They leave their mark, but who or what is lost
is never visible on the radar. Look for me
when the weather clears, I'll be east of next week,
still underneath some dire prediction and waiting
for a "wedge of possibility" to move in close,
whisk me away.
I love the metaphor.
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