Monsoon July
In New Mexico.
The wind
Worries
The trees
And in the
Afternoons
Clotted cream
Clouds
Billow up,
Frown
And turn dark.
The rain
Comes,
Some here,
Some there.
Sprinkles
Become
Downpours,
Lightning
Crackles down,
Thunderstorms
Occur and
Pea-sized hail
Batters
Rooftops.
The arroyos
Sweep away
The dust of
Yesterday,
Then it is over.
The thirsty
Desert
Absorbs
Every drop
And the
Sun
Returns,
Apologetic
For the
Trouble.