The Troposphere-Weather Breeder
Life History of a Cold Front
You rolled in
clouds over the mountains
the wind before you
tossing my hair
through you fingers
slowly you started
to wet my skin
freezing it with the breeze
tempting me with sweet
hot, cold
creating
diamonds in the trees
After the squall
I imagine myself
caught up with you
showing me
each cumulative shape
hail in my spine
electrical charges in my hair.
I do what I can
I roll over
and clap.
Copyright 2012 Julie Cummings