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.