Periodic Wind Kisses

August 9, 2010

Surrounded by flashing bolts of lightning,
crackles of thunder,
and a periodic breeze
blowing gentle kisses on me.

Sky flickers like a dying street light.
It’s hard to tell what comes first,
the lightning or the thunder.
Until I bring it up,
the skies still clear of rain;
only periodic wind kisses.

Jets race to beat the lightning,
I bet they win.
If they don’t,
we’ll have another news story
on our hands.

What’s God saying?
Is he bowling?

Crackles become more frequent.
Streetlights are still lost and tired.

None of it bothers the dog,
he’s enjoying my company outside
and what long blades of grass he can find
to chew like a cow and his cud.

I dodge the lightning strikes in this camping chair
laid back without a prayer.
A beer beside me,
the light a nice flash of reality.
“Go for it!” I say.

Yet the wind still kisses,
lightning dances,
thunder crackles,
and the rain flirts with my skin.

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