Saturday, July 22, 2006

washed out

rain softening the outline of the distant hills
washing out the grit the world has left behind
over the edge of the waterfall a tiny torrent spills
whistling a tune as the rushing creek replies in kind

the sky turns black then gray then sun returns to shine
as thunder rolls and calls the black clouds back
and storms across the countryside are marching in a line
the power lines are menaced by the lightning's sudden crack

the lights go out and come back on
the readouts blink all zeroed out
a stormy afternoon is not much fun
when even my computer is washed out

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