STORM

everything is wet

the pavement clings to the rain like memories

not ready to let go

leaves still tremble, even though the wind is long gone

puddles collect pieces of storm-torn objects

branches, wrappers, pieces of me maybe

there’s that smell

earth cracked open, like something breathing underneath it

like maybe the ground wanted this

needed this

a sob that finally made it out

the air is heavy still

not with rain anymore but with what’s left

i keep looking up, like i expect it to come

a bird

a sunbeam

something of final survival

something that will tell me what the storm was for

there’s a worm on the sidewalk

curled, stranded

i don’t know if it’s alive

i don’t know if i am either, exactly

not in the way i was before

the storm took something

i’m not sure what

and I feel myself hanging

between the storm and the rays supposed to burst forth