Stormy Weather, Stormy Arun (10)

I was reading on the bus on my way home tonight, my head down, my thoughts focused on the words in front of me and the images they conjured. And then, about halfway through my ride, I looked up. First, I was only looking at the people around me on the bus. Then I noticed what was happening beyond our windows: the sky, which should have been light and almost-golden with sunset, was blotted with thick and thicker, heavy storm clouds. The storm looked to have already taken Fort Greene and Bed Stuy. I looked up to the front of the bus and saw the clear, sunset sky ahead of us, realized I had a chance to beat the storm home.  But then I looked behind me, saw that the clouds were over Prospect Heights, too.  And when I looked ahead again, they had covered everything.  The sky went from sunset to night in an instant.

Slowly, everyone on the bus began to notice the clouds, began to wonder aloud about their chances for getting home dry.  My brain kept up a running commentary: “This is the night you wish you lived on Vanderbilt because then you’d be home already,”  “This is the night you wish you lived on Classon because then you’d be home already,” with each passing block.

I was so sure I was in for a soaking.  Make that a serious soaking.  As I stepped down from the bus, the lightning started, the thunder started.  I turned up the block and headed for home, asking the storm to give me five minutes, just five minutes.  And it did.  I had time to grab the mail and get inside.  I was hanging up my jacket when the first wave of rain was flung against the windows.  Safe!

And an Arun!

Storm —
chasing
then leading,
clouds dark, darker,
quick-crossing the sky.
Wind
and rain,
angry night.
Exploding air
against my window,
smack
of thick,
full droplets
slapped hard on glass.
April “showers” rage.

I’m still hearing thunder as I type this, and there’s a steady rain falling, but the big blast of that cloudburst has long passed.  It was amazing to see how quickly it was moving, how fast it came up from behind us, and covered everything on either side and in front of me.

_____

An Arun: a fifteen-line poem in three sets of five lines. Each set of five lines follows the same syllable structure: starting with one syllable and increasing by one (1/2/3/4/5 — 3x).

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6 thoughts on “Stormy Weather, Stormy Arun (10)

  1. I love the mix of poetry and prose…. And good thing you got in dry. Exploding air
    against my window,
    smack
    of thick,
    full droplets
    slapped hard on glass.
    April “showers” rage.

    Like

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