always starts as a summer breeze
slowly moving through the trees
a gentle relief to the beating sun
encouraging me to keep moving on

on faraway ridge a darkness forms
a menacing omen of the coming storm
a horde of clouds begin to gray
beating, defeating, the sun’s rays

the darkness foreshadows the coming wrath
its sinister plot for an afternoon bath
pulling my hood and tightening my cloak
determined to avoid the midday soak

as fast i move, it moves faster still
galloping unencumbered off distant hill
under nearby oak, I hunker down
as droplets of rain hit the ground

with risen fist, i scream and shout
“i’ve got all day to wait you out,
“and as long as i’m under this canopy,
“you can never lay a finger on me”

in thunderous hatred, the storm attacks
streams of lightning in flashing cracks
a low rumbling cloud, funnels and dips
like dorthy, consumed by a twisters tip

round and round, round some more
fearing what other things are in store
pleading and crying to be left alone
wondering if i’ll ever go home