The Angel of Sudden Thunderstorms
Enters with grandeur and trumpets blaring;
A sudden visitor on summer days,
A mystery which whistles through February.
Lights bruised green meadows,
Changes skies into a celebration
Fit for the Grandfathers who bless everything.
Pirouettes across picnics blankets,
Scatters children and chicken-salad sandwiches
Like so many November leaves.
Baptizes blue, white and red parades,
Strikes fear in domestic dogs and insecure humans,
Offers some kind of salvation for the insane;
Wears a rainbow robe, a lightening halo.
This angel comes to the dreamers, the sleepers,
The turtles waiting to wake in the mud.