Monday, January 30, 2006

Interior lightning

From the darkened house
I watched the day-end thunderhead
build and boil and breathe
an echo of its vast aliveness
wrapped aching in my chest
like anticipation.

Last sundown reds
reflected ruddy on
its roiling underside
against stormy gray and black
filled with transient flickers
and arcing white explosions
of interior lightning
then a solid wall of rain
steamed across the treetops
toward the window
where wild beauty
held me rooted.

You came up silent behind me
wrapped your arm around my waist
rested your head on my shoulder
for a moment saw what I saw
felt, I thought, what I felt
then turned back wordless
and flicked on a dim reading light
that blanked that highpiled glory
with a flat sixty watt reflection
then the now hidden rain
slammed at the window
and my full chest hollowed
out in inconsolable loss.

1 comment:

Fingers said...

The weather was a forecast itself...

This is so beautiful.
Poignant.