The view from my house: another Phoenix summer day begins.
The new day begins with the same
bleak forecast of record temperatures
and incessant he said she
said the rain said. Who to believe?
The clouds or the wind? Left
or right? The Buddhists or the Pentecostals?
The thunderclap that passed
through in the night was a headache
searching for a brow to occupy
and rain wandered lost
while lightning slept with one eye open.
Will Heaven’s floodgates open
on this day? Or will there be
a drum roll in the sky
when the birds
turn into sound with wings?
