JULY STORM



Like a tall woman across the hay field,

The man came slowly, dressed in crystal and the sun,

Rustling along the ground. She stopped at their apple tree.

Only a whispered moment, then swept darkening shirt over
The lake.

And so serenely climbed the wooden hills.

Was the rainbow a ribbon that she wore in her hair?

They never wondered. It seemed a part of her brightness,

And the way she moved lightly but with assurance over the
Earth.