Blue sparked in my wing mirror
after four soft days of rain.

Ahead the storm galloped on in glory
nose to the wind, tail flying.

Soon, afternoon broke out all over,
shards in his yard, shards in mine.

Everything inside 
pressed against the glass.

Outside, wild cats drank, tender footed,
from the barrel’s overflowing,

and small leaves composed ditties
across the page of their falling.

And just as the day’s light took to fading, 
the cloud returned, all churn and boil, singing

come out come out wherever you are