August 8, 2012


Weather is rarely
as predicted,
forever colder, hotter,
wetter, drier, 
wind echoing 
through the rafters,
rumor hanging
in the air.
Real weather 
lies deep within,
pulling us into the eye
of the storm, 
wiper blades
flapping madly,
lightning striking
all around, 
the same
wind howling,
announcing our
long-awaited arrival,
just like the night
when we were born.