A Storm In June

A crack of thunder splits a humid June sky, shattering into millions of tiny droplets to the the ground a desperately needed respite from the early summers heat. I belonged out here I knew this as I observed the sugar maples dancing with a pre-storm breeze as if the world were breathing a sigh inviting me to stay. A whisper so soft you could only sense it The silvery undersides of their leaves turning in the wind The charge across your skin as distant lightning flashes then dies with a rumble that shutters the atmosphere The smell of fresh sprinkles sizzling on the black top The sound of splashing boots in muddy puddles The taste of raindrops on your lips While others waited for sunny skies It was these moments that were for me When the trails were empty And the cloud tops high catching every puffy curve in creamy golden hews Reminding me all the time That I belonged out here