by Ronae Redwine

Many people claim to love a storm
Introverts crawl
into their heads
Romantics kiss, poets write
Musicians compose
But after the storm
when the color has run from the trees
and the sky and onto the concrete
I am dragged outside
Through ankle deep puddles
The sky pools at my feet
like a watercoloring painting
Olive green of the trees
Mingle with the dusty blue of the damp sky
Streetlights shine an iridescent orange
Reflected in pools of water
Colors spill out
but never go muddy
like they would under an artist’s brush

That is when he drags me
Outside shivering and sleepy
The benches are too wet for sitting
To stand and soak our toes
In the colors of the earth
and the sky

"Watercolored" by Stephen Iverson
“Watercolored” by Stephen Iverson