The sky, a bruised plum,
holds its breath.
Then, a rip.
Not clean, not surgical,
but a jagged tear
across the seamless blue.
Wind, suddenly a tangible beast,
claws at the trees,
whips skirts around legs,
a low growl escalating.
First fat drops,
hesitant scouts
on dusty sidewalks,
exploding with a dark kiss.
Then the deluge.
A roaring curtain
separating now from then,
sight from sound.
Light, fractured and violent,
slices the world in...
Continue reading...