Another storm.

I.

collarbones painted with sadness
gray clouds burdened by rain
not ready to fall

eyes voice chest
weighed down with
unshed tears

gather, swirl, deepen
arch high with torrents
barely contained

canny creatures sense
impending devastation
flee fleetly

feet cannot follow
Do clouds fear rain?
Does wind fear tempest?

II.

What if this storm should break,
restraint succumbing to exhaustion
and heavens pouring forth acid hearts?
What if the sky should tear itself open?
Would the ground crumble in the
face of such angry showers?

III.

no mist escape
no sprinkling
no rolling drop
relieves

no barrier fails
no release
no offering of
sorrow

no soil thirsts
no comfort
no gentle arms
await

 
IV.

wisps of fog
creep steadily from
tightly clenched nucleus,
bleeding deep and angry grey
into something not quite peace
but still dove

molecules,
no matter what kind of bond,
maintain nothing permanent.
rain or no, sky will clear
sun survey her cloudless kingdom
shades of blue-edged gold

collarbones
cresting full lungs
slip off despair like a trench
hanging, silent, in a dark closet
pocketsful of monsoon memories
waiting for another storm