60% Threat of Rain
May 22 2007


I look directly into the sun,
a pale yellow disc, smudged by scudding clouds.
The smell of dry earth and dust
and a sense of energy, pent-up
— something hovering
just beyond the horizon.
The world is all gauzy light
and buzzing lethargy
and limp and faded greens;
about to be washed clean.

They called for 60% chance of showers
and a muggy SW breeze.
It feels like a phony war,
both sides posturing
— false charges and feints,
a minor skirmish,
bored troops itching to engage.
Impatient for the clash of thunder,
and horses drowning in muddy fields
deluged by rain.