There appeared a garment of haze.
The confirmation of heat and long days.
Café umbrellas wept over their canvas
sides, softened by a dispassionate sun.
No appreciable change was predicted.
The curtained weather hung limply.
A silken confection of clouds blossomed
into mountains. Bulbous and churning they
rose in silent eruption into an uninhabited
atmosphere, spreading wide without restriction.
The rain was warm. Sidewalks were dotted
with baptismal water. Roads steamed with
relief. Windshield wipers pushed for a view.
The sound increased. The wet shined
everything clean.
Roger Singer 