tonight it is supposed to storm again.
maybe it is already, but my music masks
the patter of raindrops, and all the hint
i hear is the occasional rumble of thunder.
on tuesday i drove through a downpour
and at a red light prayed to God to be
spared from the indignity of death by
lightning in the intersection next to
7-eleven. the rain fell and the wind
blew and we thought that maybe a
hurricane had come to kansas. the
lightning lit up the sky until the wee
sma’s of the morning and my sleep
was restless. i want to be outside
now, running through the darkness
and the dampness, smelling the
dust and the rain on the air and
savouring the dispelled humidity.
my soul is no longer stormy, but
my joy longs to be unleashed in
the passion and fury of the storm.
but it is late, and dark, i am a girl,
and there are tornado watches. i
want to be in the rain right now, but
the hopeless romantic must yield
to the weatherman’s warnings. such
a pity it is, too, to waste the lovely rain.