Rag-gray sky, seeming
less aftermath than omen
with no horizon.

Willow stooping low,
storm-sodden. Stubborn drops cling
like unspoken thoughts.

Wild wheat seaweed-slick,
aligned like iron filings,
briskly brushed tresses.

The rain-steeped rampant
surcharged Earth, chastened magnet
scooping us along.

Ancient Cloud-Beard, hold
your ire, establish stillness
sudden as thunder.