People, random strangers
Cool stores
Hot blacktop
Eyes turn
Crackle with energy, anticipation
Furtive glances to the horizon,
Instinctively knowing
Darkening sky
Deep grays
Strong edges
Blue slate to charcoal
Pale, dimming yellow
Powerless to pierce through
Color shift
Gray to green
Shade like a white pine needle
Awash over other colors
Heavy air, scent of foreboding
Wet feel, distant rumble
Closer, dread
Flash and boom
Inside the fireworks
Scurry for cover
Drench
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem