June 6, 2012
In an instant, mountainous clouds of dark-grey and blue hue interrupted the calm sunny day with its voice of roaring thunder that swiftly swept aside the bright blue marble sky. What was once a brilliant sky had sunk beneath it’s blankets of black sheep, wool-like clouds that spat down on the mirage backdrop of the asphalt. My comfort resided in domicile most of the afternoon until I stepped foot through the front door and saw the ripples in the puddles on the wet driveway beneath a tree in the front yard which itself laid beneath that night-colored sky. I sought refuge in a commercial center nearby where for a while I waited for a more tame encounter of the heavens. A glance through a window, I searched for familiar ripples between the legs of people walking through the doors. So as I, myself, continued my walk home under a mid-parted sky; I pursued those run-away clouds that reminded me of the removal of the mane of a glorious lion, humiliated by it’s defeat. He did not last long; with the ground still drenched with its evidence, I concluded my journey with a face full of sunshine, my feet dampened, and a back full of a ferocious darkness of defeat.