A Summer Storm in mid-December

A Summer Storm in mid-December

This fissured nightscape
is framed with Sweet Jasmine
scented humidity
and the clamor of angry clouds
full of searing ice-water.

The clouds, as hot and cold
as our contorted hearts,
swell with impatience.
Eager to vomit churning winds
that will split us like brittle trees.

And the sky,
scabbed with sullen clouds,
irate and drunk, squats
to empty her bladder on the sidewalk
and on the heads of houses.

This storm, long brewed,
fermented silently.
Now ripe, she jealously
consumes all light,
holding the celestials hostage.
She smothers twinkling dreams
and chokes hopes that would normally gleam
like white gold on the onyx sky.

And in turn,
the stars feign death.
Fretting not,
for even powerful downpour
cannot dampen dreams
forever. And behind
the fuming clouds
the stars still shine,
Defiantly…


/exhale