Lightning

 

A heavy, velvet blanket smothers the sky.

No holes tonight.

All is enveloped in luxurious darkness that

Deepens and grows

With each new deep breath.

The clouds inhale, but they do not exhale.

 

Finally, there is nothing left but to give in

And breathe out.

With the great sigh comes gallons of tears to

Wet their pillows.

It is an ugly cry.

 

The barrage of feeling overwhelms

All the senses;

Everything looks, sounds, smells and tastes

of Wetness.

 

Then the void between blanket and pillow

Is banished

By the flicking on of a D-Battery flashlight

 

Casting in high-relief all the creases and folds

In the fabric.

 

And in a flash it’s gone.