Squall

a poem

My skin meets the heavy air
with open pores,
absorbing thick heat.

Southern rays beam
onto my parched skin,
the warmth lifts
my split-ends.

Towering clouds of water
spread across 
the wide, open 
blue ceiling.
Like grey cotton swabs
catalyzing a squall.

Chimes of shells rattle,
stray cats shelter
under dark crawls,
twigs release
and fall
from brittling branches.

An atmospheric opening

a deluge

engulfing all
that sits beneath.

It barely lasts
if any, a few minutes
of full relinquishing storm.

Still,
the weighted air seeps,
this time cooler,
onto my surface.

A passing breeze,
scent of honeysuckles,
floating pollen,
and a sudden sneeze.

Each element of sky
moving to and from
in brief eruption
and then,
gentleness.