“A Mix of Sun and Cloud, 40% Chance of Showers”
Aug 18 2009


Intermittent rain
in the forecast;
barometer up, windy gusts
unseasonably cool.

Or he could just have said
“sun-showers expected”.
The air washed clean.
The unexpected heat,
basking
as the sky breaks open.
The light almost 3-dimensional
in its clarity.

Overhead
it reminds me of torn denim, well-worn —
flaps of blue
patched with roiling clouds,
smoky, soiled;
the smell of fresh-washed clothes,
rain-rinsed
sun-dried.
In August, it feels like autumn;
single digits, tonight.

Odd mushrooms
have materialized all over,
domed, flat-topped, fluted, smooth
burnished, orange, flesh-toned.
The quickly rot,
turning black, shrivelled, shrunken.
I imagine spores settling
in the dark wetness
of the forest floor,
where they will fruit again next fall
on a day much like this one —
with sun and cloud
and sudden showers,
the pungent scent
of wood-smoke.