Afternoon Brew

It brews With the first arc of the sunlight That lifts the sweltering night It brews Without a single cloud to offer comfort The thick still air Only grows heavier A weight you can see on the leaves of the trees As they fold to the oppression Hot like a wet tea bag A solid mass you can feel on your skin Pressing on lungs scrounging for oxygen It brews Quietly Patiently Come afternoon The mercury peaks Clouds out of nowhere Swiftly boil over Liquid silver turns to slate As a wall of wind slams into the city With rain pounding in waves Hailstones thrashing And lightening bolts flashing The trees are left praying on their knees A moment of relief And then it is gone The clouds clearing out like a shift change Sun back on duty In a matter of minutes the streets are dry And the air is again steeped It is as if nothing happened Save a few fallen trees Composed for Brenda Chiri's Describe a thunderstorm without the sense of sound.