Showers on a Sunday morning

Temperature drops, sweat freezes
hair raised on skin
electrical signals race in spine
to brain

Showers sprinkled from dark foam
nimbus clouds, stretched in the skyline
orchestra of thunder reverberate
in the Colosseum of clouds

Dead straw to breeze
breeze to gale
hats blown, coats drawn to chest
fragrance of soil wet in drizzle
hold my ink, draw my plans

I sit near chimes of wind
stroking her in paints
all dark, black and grey
rising and dipping with lightning
creating luminous white strikes
across the board, filled with dark of charcoal
perfumed by soil, dripped in rain

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2 thoughts on “Showers on a Sunday morning

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