Listen to the world’s best poetry read out loud.

Day break, and fog brain searchlights for

reasons not to wake up just yet; stay well

asleep; head under cover a little longer.

I find no good excuses. Today, my big

brother arrives from England and I’m due

to pick him up. It’s the first time he’ll visit

since our Cat 5 hurricane and ironically, I

stayed up late last night to track the storm

blowing England unstable; jeopardising

flights. 2020 finds us all dazed and

real living a sci-fi movie—one we did

not script—well at least not consciously.

The world seems precariously unpredictable

—or has it always been this way?

I know nothing for sure anymore; fake news

has me blurry eyed and forever questioning;

deciphering realistic reel from real but surreal.

Currently the rain this side of the Atlantic is torrential.

Unusual this time of year. Normally I would joke-blame

my brother for dragging his depressed weather system

over here, along with his heavy baggage. But I don’t

feel his gloom precipitated these showers. Time to go.

Lately there are more reckless drivers so I drive slow;

press brakes more often down precipitous mountain

roads. Mist mood is lifting, so is the low cloud. I am

longing to see my brother. I hope we’re all on time.