February

Cool summer morning,

and the storm lies on the ground,

face down,

reduced to puddles,

and the clear sky,

blue,

just relieved,
to have kicked the storm out of her bed.
For all his raging last night,
she's free of him now,
he did his job.
Now the sun rises with the sky,
and the sisters take to the day,
climbing into beauty,
while the storm dries himself off.

-o0o-