Thunderstorm on The Prairie

I went a-walking down a path
through dwindling open space and chirping prairie dogs.
The Gods in the accumulated cumulus grew dark
and the motorways hummed with evening traffic.

Clouds the color of dishwater and soot.
A yellowed petal grinnin’ foolishly at the sky.
Happy to be on board and passing this…
this rumbly-tumbly place in time.

In the distance the crackle of electricity entangles
the sky with root-like, silver tendrils
and the following boom of thunder
sends the heavy earth a-heaving.

On a rise, a tree older than myself
holds firm against the paranoia of the clouds.
Beyond it homes and more homes.
People breathing inside them.
Making pacts with their lovers.
Cooking spaghetti for their kids.

I thought the sky was seconds from pouring on me
so I took a brisk pace for indoors,
only to get there and turn around to see a break in the clouds
and the light from the sun form a halo over the earth
and companion grass.

And if I could reach out and grab it, I’d end up with this: 0

Bright and shinning.

Transcendent.

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