Thursday, August 29, 2019

Pleasures

When, deep into night
impossibly bright
lightning strikes

A child might wake
fearfully shake
cowed by the quake

another more rash
might run to the sash
to watch the light slash

that would have been me
until thirty-three
but now I just be

and hold very still
feel air from the sill
now freshly chill

the day had oppressed me
pressured an pressed me
until I must rest me

the night she caressed me
the lightning impressed me
the thunder it blessed me

I listen for more
billowing rumbles galore
and smell petrichor

the corn in the garden
had begged for a pardon
and just received one

the rain is now dousing
rinsing and rousing
my little green loves

the cricket song
all night long
suddenly gone




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