Keeping It Real

My Muse awoke me, I had been listening to a thunderstorm from my warm bedroom. She wanted me to write about the storm. The morning came fine and fair, she was still pressing me to talk about the thunderstorm, but I am done retouching and tweaking dusty old images that cannot be verified in this very moment. The present is a fact checker and a sunny sky don't lie. If you must know there are peaches in the orchard Squirrels are nibbling away the windfalls. My son is almost playing a tune on his electric guitar, the smell of bacon is pulling me toward the kitchen. I turn on the TV but all the shows are reruns.