August 5, 2004

Summer Storm

Unbrella’d, I walked home.
Single spots of rain soaked my shirt,
And the wind whipped up a cloud of dandelion clocks
Like the insignificant tumbleweed in an empty comments box.
I lay down underneath the storm,
Listening to thunder clogging up my eyelashes.
No time at all between flash and crash;
A summer day turned cold and grey.