First Storm After Returning To The South
written by: Karen Southall Watts
@askkaren
The heavy dark clouds beg to be wrung out like a dish rag,
and the air presses hot and humid all over me,
dragging the smell and taste of sun-burnt gardenias and
freshly cut grass into my mouth and lungs.
The songbirds are so loud they drown out my footsteps
on the shimmering pavement,
but then that music is itself buried under the rumble of thunder.
I move faster.
My haste will mean a pre-suppertime shower
to wash away the heat and sweat
of the sultry summer,
before I lie down to listen to the rain.
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