Tempestuous Afternoon (poem)

Tempestuous Afternoon

Four watchers in the room,
wind rattling panes.
The youngest browses Bluesky,
the oldest peruses Psalms.
Whatever their oracles tell them
must not be useful. They don’t share.
No one blinks when the door bangs open.
Someone has left.
Something has entered.

— Bryant Jacobi
10/3/25

Halloween Day 3