How's the Weather?

I grew up in Ohio.
We didn't talk about our pains and our problems.
We talked about the weather.
Maybe sports...
Perhaps it was metaphor...but likely
it was out of fear
of showing our weaknesses,
our vulnerability.
We still were hard off the praire farm and
steel mills and blisters raising tools.
Many suffered in silence,
when it was their turn,
or so it seemed.

Perhaps the Bible helped
you know
the promise of a better life,
next time.
Or maybe a shot and beer and
happy days are here,
again
I am at the confluence
at the verge
of letting go of old ways and things
of those people and times
at least enough to see a new road
a new me,
But it isn't easy
as I fine my heals dug in to that soil, deep
and you know,
The rain is sure to let up,
soon.