THE STORM

            The storm sits waiting on the left side of the sky
            Thick, evil-coloured cotton candy
            Still a ways off, it throws shadow at the road
            The sound of transport trucks bouncing on the highway
            Or thunder
            Mamas gather children close around them
            Their eyes all Chinese against the wind
            The dirt and dust liberated to the air
            As the temperature drops, the fearful seek shelter
            Windows close, doors slam shut
            Deserted in those last few moments.

            Standing under a convenience store awning, I watch
            No one stops me as I walk to the middle of the road
            Hugging myself, it really is cold.
            Suddenly stillness, I hear pins dropping somewhere
            Or raindrops.
            With my palms open to the sky
            The first raindrop falls on my cheek
            And then come the torrents of water
            Soaking me as I do a post-modern raindance
            Screaming justice justice wash all this away
            Then the clouds break and a rainbow shines
            And ruins the whole damn thing.

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