His horseshoe on the tree near
had slipped a nail again
Turning upside down
Spilling the little luck within

He thought about fixing it
But didn't want to rise in might
To get the ladder and hammer
And nail, to set things right

He had quit riding, late last year
Although he could, he had been
Stepped on across the back,
Hurt a little, and didn't want it again

Now, he would sit and rest
Wait patient, for the days to fade
Loving the moment of thought
Resting on the bench, in shade

©  2017 Jim Davis

The smell of rain precedes the storm
that looms out in the west.
The sound of distant thunder
causes racing in my chest.

The temperature begins to drop
as I begin to flee
Seeking shelter from the storm
beneath a lonely tree.

I cower there, although I know
this haven's a mistake.
I know this is a lightning rod
but that's the chance I take.

The clouds, like battlements,
now, tower overhead
Ominous...majestic...and
they fill my heart with dread.

Drops of rain begin to fall
and plop among the leaves
Followed my the icy hail
that toward my shelter weaves.

A branch has fallen near my crouch
and nearly I am crushed.
My choice to wait beneath the tree
now seems a little rushed.

I stumble out into the storm.  
The rain is driving hard.
Lightning strikes the tree I'd left.  
The trunk is black and charred.

How foolish was my little hike
in spite of warnings thus.
Stay at home when storms approach
or next time...take the bus