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.