There’s a storm churning. It’s been churning for a few days.




They’ve been bickering more. She’s stressed. He’s sick and scared.  I feel upside down when I feel what he feels; dizzy, blurry edges, muffled sounds.




Heat lightning tonight.

A pause, then pounding thunder-

The thing is still brewing, the wind blowing,

But no rain yet.

I think about the forest fires,

And human moods reflecting nature’s swellings,

And I go out to turn the lights off in the trees.



I look up-

More forks of lightning above-

We’re in a heat wave.

All this burning, it’s transforming and a lot of it scares me.


...


It’s raining finally,

The sound soothes. 




I’m watching the water fall in droplets into the pool.

And I feel like the ripples are waving, telling me goodbye,

“The rain is so welcome, it is so wonderful,” his words curve downward at their ends.

He looks so tired.

He asks me if I remember how to lock the door.

Homps, France  //  July 2022