STORM

Eric Gilliland

blue-white etchings upon bruised canvas we watched with arrogant eyes of understanding as the storm swaggered into the city to stake its claim upon those that feared

we dared it to come but it waited
teasing
gathering strength
beneath clouds dark with the threat

transfixed getting off or coming down some more brutal but all very real all watching the skies when the rain first fell
scampering
saddles saddled
quick darting through people and drops and wind
now stiff

eclipse half-light
brow freed sweat and the rain
stinging eyes
on asphalt oceans running downhill seeking its own

16th and U
a soggy Friday smile and directions
swimming towards the green promise
love an umbrella
all is good