Summer Storms

A dear friend says I'm brave to go it solo in the city… she has a husband - seven kids - two dogs - and a neurotic cat yet she dubs me brave! I'm not brave, I'm transparent amidst glass and steel… night lights the tower windows - eyes watching, winking lobby doors gobble people only to spit them out again. At a sidewalk café I'm the superintendent of this concrete esplanade… watching women in heels, men in suits (some in heels) poop scooping dog owners - who's the bulldog here? In sublime heat, under threatening sky, a dry Chardonnay wets my lips… the paved people mover hosts a carnival of characters rushing to their next scene - to the burbs' trimmed lawns where wifey waits, hoping the train's on time, that the roast isn't dry - that he's in a good mood hubby, stopping in for a spirited lift, is in the mood for pasta. Puffy-cheeked clouds let out a thunderous roar… howling gusts of wind send spittle in sideways sheets inverted umbrellas rage their angry teeth skyward drenching the women's trendy doos while dogs pull masters to shelter waiters scurry to tie down awnings against swirling winds must keep the patrons dry! As the subsiding torrent sends steam rising from hot pavement my reasons for choosing the city are clear… inhaling the energy of these brume ensconced streets cast in this impromptu street opera playing my part in the faceless crowd braving the amusing summer storms. 6/11/2013