Storm Passing Through

Wind whips the raindrops hard against my windows.

I hear the crash of the thunder and count to seven.

The sky is pewter grey, and I cannot see the marina at all.

Another thunderclap makes poor Apricot jump.

I counted five that time. Its closer.

The city Dash bus that runs for free passes beneath my fourth floor window.

Its rooster tails spray out behind.

It stops at the bus post across the street, and an umbrella opens.

I can barely tell its a woman as she rushes into the Phoenix Inn across the street.

Fortunately for her, its next to the bus stop.

I sit and watch it, for I am exhilarated by storms.

Apricot meows in disgust from the table, not thrilled at all.

It gradually slows and passes to the south.

How I love the smell in the air after it leaves.

Clean and crisp, though most of the pretty leaves are gone from the trees.

Mother Nature swirls the leaves around.

It definitely IS Autumn.

Sharon Pribble