Have you ever watched
Sway the branches of oak trees
In a southern springtime thunderstorm?
Back and forth
With a wind both warm and chill,
Tantalizing the emotions,
Yet calming the nerves.
I could sit on this porch for hours,
Back and forth,
The smell of coming rain and
Nothing but a man and his mind,
And the low rumble of thunder in the distance.
I could sit on this porch for hours.
I may just do it.
This poem ©