it has rained for 3 days
straight now. rain, blown
by north bound winds,
hits the back door so
madly that water has puddled
on the floor for hours
before i notice. my foot
skims the cold water and
i realize these windows and
doors may not be as
protective as i thought.
my cat and i wander onto the
porch to watch the lightning.
he sits in the chair next to me
like a little man and doesn’t
shutter or shake at the clapping
in the sky high above us. i look
at him and wish i could be so calm.
so peaceful in my chilled skin; so
content wrapped around myself.
but i jump a bit with each crash,
as the thunder assembles itself
over my head. and i wait, with
brittle anticipation for each new
flashing spark that rings across
the grey that has settled in around us.
for a moment, i close my eyes,
and pray to the small statue
of saint Joseph that i
superstitiously buried in my
flower bed, that these walls
i have been living inside
will be emptied. that this house
that can’t seem to handle the simplest
of rain storms, will spit me out.
that this culmination of water
and electricity will wash
away everything that is black
wash away everything.