It catches a whiff of the shift in wind,
in the alignment of the planets and molecular pacing of the universe
the air is thick with forebodings of a skirmish
of troops armed to the teeth
hidden from sight and ready to spring from the four corners
don’t they know any better?
the creature with the deadly sting never lets its guard down
no one dupes the scorpion

its Chinese counterpart struts around
crowing at the good tidings of deeper friendships
a glinting landscape
territorial claims
silenced momentarily at the twin caution of illness
 – wasn’t that a tickle behind the throat and a heaviness sitting on the head?

another day
another prediction
when will the cursor land on words of journeys?
lost love found?
enemies banished?
perhaps tomorrow or the next day to come
perhaps not

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