Thursday, June 9, 2011

Rainy afternoons

The long mild spring we are having
reminds me of summer school at
college in small town Wyoming.
My alma mater was (and still is) at 7,000 feet;
summer mornings there are temperate and
quiet, afternoons drizzly and
overcast, perfect for the industrious
graduate student who taught in
the morning, wrote and studied
after lunch, drinks with friends at five.
In the present day, I prowl my home,
as I did then,
checking that windows are tipped open to
take deep breaths of cool
humid air, lighting candles to
mingle and pierce the grey shadows,
searching the horizon for lightning
crackles, thrilling at the sound of
thunder rolling around the hills,
cradling a glass of iced tea,
long-stored memories
tucked around my neck
warming me,
fingers itching for the pen and book.

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