but I’m not sure what to write about
so I’m just listening to the crows outside
cawing loudly to each other
like they got something important to say
and they don’t care about who hears it
this is just after a thunderstorm came through
booming and pouring
the dog under my writing desk
where she always goes when it thunders
her safe space in the storm
still pretty dark outside
rain dripping off the trees onto the roof
occasionally accented by a blowing wind
category 4 hurricane heading up towards Louisiana
they could use the rain in California
air conditioner humming because it don’t know the words
blowing cool air much appreciated
beyond the French doors in the front room
clock ticking, eternity running out
grains of sand remaining fewer and fewer
now I don’t hear the crows
they’ve moved on, always moving they are
siren in the distance —- ambulance now rushing by the house
maybe somebody’s sand dial has run out of sand
cemetery across the street gets ready to yawn
