The sticky hot outside wraps like Catsclaw,
Weaves itself around bark, branch, and power line.
Peton-like appendages snag on gutter and gable,
Hold close the ordered row of centurion houses.

Sultry tendrils of air
Tenaciously wrap themselves
Around each and every door and window sill.
The steady rain, persistent in its melancholy melody.

I cannot deny an urge to let it all in…

The rich, thick illusion of vaporous green
Stymied by plaster walls and cracked window panes,
Begs my attention.

A/C and ceiling fans rage in opposition,
Sabers rattled at the roiling air outside!
I don’t think I can afford another war.

In the midst of the lightening,
A flashbulb sense of exiled breezes.
Phantom oak limbs frantically waved about,
Infusing previously twisted dreams with a wild,
And curiously, more exhilarating sense of disarray.

With thunder cracking me awake,
For the umteenth time,
I throw a window open,
Invite the storm inside.



Michael S. True
8-25-14 last edit 9-8-14