August 8, 2026

leave it to a thunderstorm
rumbling in my bones
as my eyes watch the trees
sway and toss and turn in the intense breeze
to actually get my brain and body and heart to acknowledge
a love for being alive
on this Earth

it feels too emotional
too sincere
to share in any way but poetry
but even the words of poetry feel too simple
for the intensity of the feeling
or too flowery to really embody
the groundedness of the feeling
[though flowers are grounded too, in their growing, are they not?]

how can i explain the feeling of ‘home’
that is this living within all Earth has to offer?
i love her i love her i love her
and maybe that’s the heightened emotions talking
and maybe that’s my experience with many personifications happening
and maybe there’s a distance and a pushing that comes from
writing this hours and hours and after the experience
but my heart feels to bursting with love of this planet
and yet, i know my heart will not explode,
for everything has worked itself out over billions of years
for hearts to not literally engorge with emotion,
but the feelings align with physical signs
my heart seems to fill, to push up at my throat
as that signals to my eyes to fill with tears
just as they did last night
during the thunder and lighting and rain and realization
that i actually
at that moment
and this
love being
alive

and i have the Earth to thank

July 5, 2026

i do not understand
americans —
the insistence on setting off fireworks
when the veterans they purport to support
endure ptsd flashbacks/
when the cities insist it’s a danger in this heat/
when the lightning is lightninging all around them/
and the rain makes the fuses hard to light/
and the legality of it all is kind of..fuzzy…
this “tradition”
[that, like most traditions, is probably not that old at all]
that those who insist on loving america conditional to their understanding of it
also insist on blasting off big fiery booms,
but for whose benefit?
when this anniversary of our independence
the approval rating even inside the country
is at an all-time low —
i don’t understand americans to the point where
i’m insisting on not labeling myself as one
as to distance myself from
the vibe they
emit

[“don’t call me an american,
i’m a new yorker”]

[but new york still had fireworks too tho…]

May 24, 2026

i cannot tell if these rumbles
are planes
or trucks
or general new york sounds
or maybe
just maybe
the actual call of
thunder
through this rainstorm

i want it so desperately to be thunder
but i cannot
cannot
cannot get my hopes up
without
solid
evidence

July 6, 2024

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.

April 5, 2024

what a day
was yesterday —

a covid kip/
a power outage
lasting hours
[so no regular morning things]/
many calls and stresses/
and finally, the dreaded mri
[but not before getting poked and prodded
and hurt and pained
and bruised]

and, of course, a target run
for my sickkip

but now
now
today
this morning
at this moment
things
are back
to
[relative]
normal

January 10, 2024

the wind howling all night
rain smack splat thwacking the windows —
the puppy and i, unable to rest our eyes,
for hoping the terror in the night
is just nature knocking a little too forcefully
on our door
[but fear it is something more];
staring into the darkness
hoping to see a clue being borne,
hoping to see the end of the storm —
unable, we slink to a different bedroom
a smaller, cozier, stiffer bedroom
thank goodness for a guest bed, one where i can
fall asleep
but i wish wish wish
it could be a bed
where i stay
a
sleep
all night
all night

alas, alack,
’tis not to be

[but at least sleep caught up with the puppy]

December 18, 2023

turn up the heat
turn on the dog-calming music
welcome our tired bones
from a restless sleep
awake because the outside
sounds like it’s trying to get in
banging and knocking and blowing so hard
over and over and over again