STORM

STORM

by Robin Shwedo

©: Robin Shwedo, 1985



It's growing dark outside.

I wander out;

the clouds are rolling in,

slowly churning,

climbing

over each other.

The air has a certain feel,

expectant,

ready to charge,

held in suspended motion.

Somewhere,

someone has recently mowed their space;

the scent lightly perfumes the air.

Splat.

The first rain drop hits right on my nose.

I wait, watching the tentative drops splatter on the sidewalk

in front of the house.

Slowly,

I wander back inside,

curl on a chair in the darkening room

and watch as the light-and-water show begins.



Summer tends to be the rainy season in Florida, with the Tampa Bay being called the Lightning Capital of the U.S. This was written after one such storm.

This is part of Love, Feelings and the Seasons of Life.