the storm

and then I see the storm coming
slowly swallowing the sky
a wall of darkness, yawning
across the softly starlit night

it comes with lightning
flashing, pulsing,
burning, searing in my eyes
it comes with thunder
growling
in the recess of my mind
it comes in forms I'd not suspected
lying on the shallow pavement--

bare feet twitching in the soft grass
shoes rejected,
bearers of blisters,
heels relaxing in their freedom--

and next to me
our elbows touching
(purposely or accident?)
the man I thought had left no traces
suddenly materialized

and as the wind picks up its speed
wrapping the chill in the evening breeze
I wonder if it's just the air
that's causing my pulse to race
that's feeding the color into my face
that's pricking the skin of my shoulders,
my arms,
causing the goosebumps to rise
in heightened awareness of how close it lies:

the storm
and his heartbeat
and maybe my life
all wrapped up together
with love intertwined--

up from the sidewalk
through cracks of cement
the lonely hope rises
the lovers' lament
of trust born and broken
and brought back to life
emerging triumphant
yet brittle and tired
and waiting...for something...

(it doesn't know what)

but the flash and the crash
and the fat drops of rain
interrupt
the beginning
the electric flame
and after it all
when the moment has passed

we wait for the storm to break.