grey skies and
drip drops on window panes and
the perfect day to nap your stress away
and
the perfect evening to be lulled into deep deep sleep
~~~
evening pages
much much later than normal poetry time
[am i just doing this
to say that i did it?]
[isn’t that all life is anyway?]
~~~
i think
three
poems is enough poems
for such a late late night
poem-writing-time
Three Musings on Summer Thunderstorms:
the sky darkens to post-sunset dusky grey
and a lightning bolt passes by my window
the rumble of thunder
the stream of rain
and this summer storm is at it again
[i love this weather]
~~~
thunderstorms make me smile
interrupting the daily toil
of sunrise and shine and set and night
darkening a summer morning
or lightning-flash-brightening
midnight pitch black,
sounds escaping our atmosphere —
booms and cracks and the smacks of hard raindrops
cleansing the air
feeding the ground
offering greener hues when the showers subside
and summertime just isn’t summer
without
~~~
drench me in rain
fill my ears with thunderclaps
and my eyes with bright bolts of lightning
let me taste a summer storm
and offer my nose the delightful scent
of petrichor
as the pressure changes
and my heart grows
and i know
i’m present and whole.
yesterday it rained
not from clouds or sky
but from frozen branches
and telephone wires
and i walked
under the melting drops
and cared for a twisted ankle
and recorded auditions
and read for classes
and i felt so
accomplished.
and today i read for myself
and relaxed the day away with my spouse
and noticed the ankle not doing too well
and rehearsed for a different class
and waited to poem my poetry
and both sky and ground
were clear
and dry
and i still
can feel
accomplished.
kipventures 