After Thunder



Last night a dazzling
thunderstorm
woke you at four o'clock.
Three hours later
with one yawn
you walk outside to look.

Under a sky of
pale gray silk,
the air feels fresh and chill.
Rain still falls
soft but swift
in dancing drips and drizzles.

You wade in grass,
wet blades drooping,
weighted down with water.
Your damp shoes splash
through small, clear pools
in all the little hollows.


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