Saturday, August 28, 2010
Sky, stuffed with clouds
All shades of grey
Bleeding into one another.
Along the horizon
A small fringe of white puffiness
Holds out against encroaching darkness.
We see it first.
Distant smudges blurring
The difference between land and sky.
Drive into it -
Or it into us -
Large, loud splats against the windshield.
Rain so hard
Wipers can barely clear it off
Fast enough to see.
Moments before, dry gray highway
Now covered with sheets of water.
Inside, we shout to be heard.
In the distance a sudden, blinding flash
From earth to sky and back again,
Although I cannot see this order.
Following quickly behind,
A deep, disturbing rumble
We feel in bellies and on the floor.
A reflection -
Our own traveling through this -
In the images passing by.
Other cars on narrow, now-blackened strip,
Race through and part the flow,
Spraying water as if they were hydroplanes.
It does not last long.
Flash and rumble
Fade away into the distance.
We pass from the storm -
Or it from us -
See dark, smothering clouds recede to the rear.
Drive on through dappled, rain-fresh hills,
All colors deeper now, and more pronounced.
Sweet smell of wet grass and dust