In the first warm night of the year
clouds keep lighting up
silently.
It doesn’t stop.
The flash blinded me, began to rain
roaring.
It doesn’t stop.
Trees stand still
yet the air flees faster into me home,
scents come up; wet grass, mud
Mist has arisen, I cannot see my neighbor’s burrow
This sound, of rain or winds
carrying droplets?
I wonder, what can I do?
then, the entire sky
The scenery now hand in hand.
purple light
