Anticipation

In anticipation
of a storm since early dawn,
we swelter waiting
for the wind to puncture
this gelatinous
balloon of sticky humidity.

Overripe as
unpicked fruit, encased
in this wall of heat,
lethargy remains unstirred
by a swirling
fan’s inefficacious bluster.

Something more,
and sharper, is needed to
rend this bubble;
a blade sharpened by ether,
an electric crackle
priming the rain’s explosion.

 

 

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