Uncle History and His Wrist

Something terrible happens
In Uncle History’s wrist
When he puts his hand in the stream
He feels premonitions
Innocent people and animals
Are soon to be harmed
He pushes deeper
Brushes aside the reeds—
So many ghastly forecasts
Water bearing rumors
Probable ones
What can he do
The future
Isn’t his specialty
There’s no word
For anticipating
Atrocities in advance
In turn
There’s no way
To defeat this
Cold water
On his wrist bone
Lonesome on the riverbank

Author: stevekuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University View all posts by stevekuusisto