A felonious aberration,
that soft pink sky turned red
the innocent flowering
of dawn gave little warning.
A disingenuous incantation
that first faint rumble of thunder,
the distant streaks of lightning,
air gone stagnant like the breath
of some malingering snake oil salesman
lugubrious in the summer noon.
A dark’ing sky,
ensnares the atmosphere.
The warring gods attack,
obtuse and cruel they duke it out.
Beguiled by early morning’s smile
we hunker now, waiting
for the storm to end.