Introducing a new series of poems by Julian Matthews. Julian is a writer and Pushcart-nominated poet published in The American Journal of Poetry, Autumn Sky Poetry Daily, Borderless Journal, Beltway Poetry Quarterly, Dream Catcher Magazine, Live Encounters Magazine, Lothlorien Poetry Journal and The New Verse News, among others. He is a mixed-race minority from Malaysia and lived in Ipoh for seven years. Currently based in Petaling Jaya, he is a media trainer and consultant for senior management of multinationals on Effective Media Relations, Social Media and Crisis Communications. He was formerly a journalist with The Star and Nikkei Business Publications Inc
Link: https://linktr.ee/julianmatthews
By Julian Matthews
So what do you do if the weather goes away? No sun shining, no blue sky, no clouds, no rain, no wind. Nothing. We turned on the news and no one knew what was going on – or why. And at the end of the news, there was no weather report. The next day, there was nothing to break the ice with either in casual conversations. Nothing to say during pregnant silences at meetings. All that small talk about squalls and storms, spiking heat, melting ice caps and cold fronts were no longer necessary. Neighbours spoke over fences about more important stuff, not the inanity of the weather. Colleagues opened up. Lunch and dinner were more fun. Friends and family found deeper meaning in conversations. Chats were on fire. We all moseyed about doing our own thing. But with more gusto, less gust, more cheeriness, no fuss. We hugged complete strangers on the streets, even the odd politician. We laughed. We were happier, or so we thought. There was enough light by day but we didn’t know where it was coming from. And the temperature was neither hot nor cold, but just right. Like Goldilocks not knowing of the bears’ return. At some point in the day, perhaps when it was late – we weren’t sure because we lost track of time – the light went out. And all was darkness. Like someone hadn’t paid the bill. We retired to our beds, curled up and slept like babies to a lullaby. The next day, we woke up, looked out of humanity’s windows and the sky was pink perfect and the landscape luminescent. Everyone was out playing, riding ponies and eating ice cream of every flavour. And, in denial, we wondered why we ever needed to do anything to save the planet in the first place. There was always someone who would do something, right?
Right?
First published in Mayari Literature Journal, San Francisco, USA.
