The light flickers behind my closed lids
It’s hard to know if it’s lightning
So used we are to recrudescences of screens
At the beginning of the day
Should I check the phone
(www.realtimelightning.org)?
But the air is thick and intense
And the soughing rush of the trees
Signals air whipped up under the heavy cloud
And the sky a thunder black
With an ominous feel
As the rain drops
Splash
With poignancy
Meeting the slate with a defined creak
One by one, so very slowly
Deliberately
And the cows in the field are sitting down.
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