thunder through dawn,
thunder beings they were called.
It had to be a person or animal up there.
Outside, walking to my work shed the clouds
were low, almost black, and turbulent. You could
nearly jump up and touch them. I love thunder.
I could listen to it all day long. Like birdsong
it’s the music of the gods. How in childhood
I adored these cloud voices that could
lift me up above my troubles, far
above the birds. I’d look down
at their flying backs, always
in circles because earth
is round. What a gift
to have my work