The storms are changing,
rainless or brief,
torrential sun and thunder.

The radio and I commute home in static,
dropping under an uncertain sky.
Updrafts like cannons terrify the leaves,

and above, two hawks
climb the chaos,
daring the air to try something new.

Dozens more soar beyond
spiraling up in funnel form.
They dance with the wild storms of summer,
rising for the long way home.

08/09/2019

Posted on 08/09/2019
Copyright © 2025 Matthew Zangen