Be Still

The clouds hung low

though they had finished crying.

I surmised they didn’t know I was here,

sitting in the alcove of my front door,

bathing my feet in dirt puddles.

I wondered why they wouldn’t leave.

Why did they press into the air and

colour the sky with grey and heat?

They had arrived to cut through

August humidity and bathe the straw grass.

But, when they were done,

they didn’t leave.

***

I had a plain view of the private show

reserved for window peepers.

I watched as they rolled in with booming voice,

draining the sun as they went.

I held my breath as the first drops fell

on my naked toes,

gathering momentum,

before releasing in a downpour

so intense,

my heart forgot to beat.

My eyes fixated upward,

failing to notice the water seeping into

the hem of my jeans.

***

In just a few moments the sky zipped up.

Eerie stillness settled in next.

Static buzzed in my ears as I took one breath,

then another,

craning my neck for a single sound.

There was nothing.

But they didn’t leave.

The clouds hung there, unsure where to go next.

I stood up,

inhaling the still firmament

for a moment more.

Then turned to walk inside.

Show’s over.

****