after the storm is this, the lingering headache and colors
I run through the thundering waters
the sky’s tears, the sky’s laughter
the steady beat tapping out
too soon subsiding in exhaustion.
wait, wait! In every tiny reflection, in every color
we wait, wait with every breath held back
my feverish pen halts, my feverish thoughts dim
hold hands up to the storm
fingers intertwined, in sudden silence.
I saw the sky on fire through my kitchen window tonight, and grabbed my camera. The wind had died to nothing, the world was silent, and the clouds were running away. What beauty!