Give me the thick, dark clouds
that blanket the sky in grey.
Give me the fat, cold globules
of H2O,
falling from the firmament.
I would gladly gaze up,
and allow them to land
upon my head and my neck
and my shoulders,
sending a flutter down my spine—
straight through
to my fingertips.

Give me the cracklings of
those super-charged particles,
displacing the air
clearing the horizon
as it illuminates
just like Independence Day.
Give me the hot, sticky,
sweat-filled calm,
and let the tides roll in
to wash it away
on the back of the
thunderstorm.

A. I. Myles   o9 June, 2019