after the storm
hangs stagnant air
not a shiver
of a leaf
only waiting
as headlights
of cars
peek out
of driveways
and resume routine.
after the sun rises
and the heat
sets on in
sticky air
the storm
seems a welcome
change.

YOU ARE READING
A N T H E M
Poetrywe are the broken//we are the corrupt//we are the shallow #54 poetry (2/23)