Tuesday, May 24, 2011

parelandra (or, a rainstorm on the way home from work)

Stepping out from a little repetition,
I blink in the unexpected sunlight.
But I can smell the troubled air,
furrow my brow and sow.
Then, down the road, the clouds unburden themselves
washing against the windshield with a sound
- like lungs with pneumonia.
Until the earth breathes easy
and glows with newness.

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