Dark clouds coalesce,
smoke upon water,
gathering between blue sky
and the snarling sun,
searching for peaks
beyond their silver lining.

Thunder rolls.
Lightning, subsumed by
the fading glory of day—
a dead poets’ society at work,
scribbling Wordsworthian lines
of gaiety and gambol,
marveling at the overhang
that assembles every evenin’,
spoilsport to studded feet
and wandering walks
around the meadow’s edge,
brigaded by yonder folk.

—