Hail.

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by TheBookMagician_

by TheBookMagician_

Dark storm clouds bring a sigh of relief.

After a week too hot to even take the dog out--

so stifling that eating melted ice-cream after sun goes down

leaves me praying for a breeze

and the walk to the car after church

spreads heat rash down my thighs--

a thunder storm is a welcome sight.

The A/C sat at 74 all day today.

The power company asked us all to keep it at 82.

Fuck them.

They let us freeze,

let them sweat.

Thunder rolls and lightning flashes,

rain pours but it's still warm out on the porch.

Still, God? I ask, It feels like it's near 90 out.

And a hunk of ice hits the window.

Hail. Big as marbles raining down.

Chunks of ice bouncing off the pavement,

knocking branches off of trees,

cracking against the window panes.

The sky rumbles and, for moment, I think it's thunder.

I sit by the window and watch the rain come down in sheets,

listening as God laughs and laughs and laughs.