Lightning flares, a phosphorescent scar
a Jedi sword of galactic proportions
Pile driving into the grey of the sky,
and then a massive bang,
like cracking earth raindrops pelting;
two and five rand coins sting bare skin;
bends leave swooshing trees,
leaning raking wind
the quivering branches
the brushed grass
flash and boom call;

a mixture of jazz and rock
written in the sky
later, an eastward drifting
of stygian clouds
a soft roar
as whirring rain
pours forth like purple slush
daylight stirred
into a soup
where I vainly seek cover …

I notice
the bark’s abrasiveness,
its brown
deeply darkened
the degeneration of
this leisurely stroll
into moist abandon, water-lit brows, glistening lips

back on the street
I take small steps
and glance back at
steps …