The Photographer
Skies gray and rains blow;
Trees sway and creak like old stairs.
Thunder rolls and booms.
The den lights go out.
On the brown faux leather couch
Kids crowd together.
Whites of their eyes show.
"Shush! God is doing his work,"
Grandparents tell them.
Lightning bolt flashes,
Illuminates the front yard
And freezes the scene
Framed by porch windows;
He snaps candids from the storm,
Outside looking in.
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