Left Aligned; Not Centered. 28.06.
I love late afternoon thunderstorms.
Especially in the Alabama summer.
It’s a nice relief after the sun blanketed hot day.
Mid-day or morning storms just lead to muggy and miserable days.
A vacation-esque evening begins once the sun has began to descend and the clouds roll in.
Each thunder roll shakes the insides as the rain plays the soundtrack.
All of this
seems to be intensified
sitting behind the brick walls
and huge glass windows
of a historic mill.
Looking through the wavy glass panes I wonder how many people sat here before me
during a repeated session with the sky.
Was it a cold, icy rain with harsh taps against the building?
Or did each drop of rain quickly evaporate on the arid Alabama soil?
Was the rain and thunder and flashes of electricity wanted,
or feared?
What did the rain land on?
Cotton?
Soil?
Perhaps pavement?
Of course I don’t have the camera with me
so I’ll have to do what I did before my digital days
and recap this event
with letters.
The sky is a wonderful, peaceful shade of light blue
with a darker hue shading the background.
Quick blinks of white illuminate the green of the grass to an almost neon shade,
but just as quickly returning to the saturated green
with each tear from the sky.
The rain hits sporadically along the metals roofs that line the building.
I try to sway along
with the rhythm
of mother nature,
but she’s off beat sometimes.
Then again, she always seems to create
her own unique melody
each day.
Nonetheless it makes for a soothing sound.
Glancing down I can see rust streaks
from the previous years’ moisture
coming in contact with the shiny, pristine metal.
The reds and oranges blend together to create
even the most unique brown.
The air is thick inside,
but only until a gust brings relief
to the sweat beads
gathered around the hairline.
All these great sensations don’t last long enough.
The heat traps the rain from falling and forces it out as a haze,
while the breeze backs away to emphasize the loss of refreshment.
The sky’s belches slowly get quieter
as if it has finally digested the storm,
and moved on.
The quick flashes of light that seem to come straight out of a wizard’s wand
no longer play peek-a-boo
with dark corners.
The earth loses that silent feeling and begins to rotate again.
It always seems
to
go
faster
when it starts up.
My wrist has been twitching for three days now. What does that mean?