The Tail of the Season
by Vaughn Neeld

The monsoons have begun.
Delicious, airy morning sunshine yields to
cloud specters lurking to the west.
Humidity peaks. Fecund clouds carry
heavy, blue-black bellies.
Lightning rockets rupture,
tear clouds asunder.
Detonations shake the earth.
Rain lashes. Water, gleefully gurgles,
rushes through gutters, sweeps away waste.

After the assault, the storm rumbles east.
The sun beams again. Dog days shorten.
The season stumbles behind the
August rain: the best of the summer gone.


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