The Winds
Josephine LoRe
where foothills snuggle western peaks
winds blow mercury from twenty below
to thirteen above in a day
the city duvetted
sky blue under silver-arc cloud
winter reprieve
snow-eater, the people call it
the Piikani, Kainai, Siksika
Chinook
whereas on that salt-surrounded
island of my parents’ birth
winds blow north across immense Sahara
intensifying heat
a sheet of red sand
falls with moisture drawn
from azure Mediterranean
blood rain
it is called in Sicily
Scirocco
last night
my Calgary sleep disturbed
red sand falling
across the face of troubled dreams