High Summer

Fat clouds,

bruised and gravid
leak endlessly,
spilling
onto the boggy earth.

Pooling.

Lightning strides across the sky
tearing wide the heavens and
thunder whipcracks,
ricocheting around the valleys.

Swollen rivers meet and conjoin
letting loose their roiling waters;

roaring through man-made courses
destroying all before them
in their eagerness to greet
the mighty ocean…

There will be
no hazy
bee droning moments to pine
for this year.

No sun drenched tow headed
Snapshots to giggle over;

no Summer wine
memories to store away
for rime frosted Winter nights.

Just the scars of nature’s wrath,
the remnants of a vile harvest
and the horror of washed away lives…