The clouds drift in
Thunder rumbles, trembles, in the distance
Echoing across these old mountains
Like a far-off drumbeat

My eyes grow tired
With the summer heat and heaviness
You always laugh at me, dizzy
And so much afraid, yet not of the storm

Step softly about the house
Anticipating, leave the windows cracked,
Too fat and swollen with late August air,
Suddenly, I hear the hush of rain

In the gray quietness
I curl up on your bed
Your voice, rhythmically
Hums and whispers a song I do not know

Sleep has fallen on me
As rain hits a shingled roof
Ah, the lullaby is so sweet
You and the downpour embracing.

A.K.