“For Weeks, Thunderstorms Roamed the Sky” by Kristine Nowak

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For weeks, thunderstorms roamed the sky
and their dim growl rimmed the horizon.

The strikes tore the fabric of the day,
and the nights blinked with strange light.

Even a line of blue sky was only a bridge to the next
break—a vowel between two flashes of consonant.

When the rain came, it took everything
in a gray roar—water layered windows and streets

until the world itself seemed to be sluicing toward
drain pipes, the sky white and innocent as cotton

minutes later, as it gathered itself to fall
from the next dark cloud.

-Kristine Nowak

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