Storm Watcher

The rain falls with

gale-force ferocity

mounting as evening

gets darker and the light

given off by stars and moon

and streetlamp make

the droplets into fireflies

fast-spiraling to earth.

The lightning in

fierce jealousy rakes

white-hot fingers against

clouds so dark they

seem the encroaching evil

on an epic fantasy’s

turbulent horizon.

The wind overcomes its

lacking corporeality in

a vengeance of force

a transparent wall;

indisputably tangible.

And I, made small,

humbled and awed

stand watching, soaked

to the bone and

loving the rawness of

the energy in the air

like a thing you could

reach out and touch or

open your mouth and

taste on the tip

of a restless tongue.

I can’t help but

wonder why

everyone else

went

inside.