summer, she taunts me

i am waiting for the rain;
impatient for the plop of cold wet
on my face and arms, for frantic flight
indoors, for racing like children to the windows
to watch it pour

impatient for cobalt run through with white
and coal clouds stomping mightily
overhead, for temper tantrums of thunder
and the ground to slake its thirst–
to become full, soaked, saturated
like my heart with the sound–

i am waiting for rain to come,
praying for a storm,
hoping for a torrent

and please god, won’t you oblige?

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