For your reading pleasure, two poems about the weather. It's not like I really have nothing to talk about anymore (as meteorological events are what you should be conversing about during a literary dry spell) but recent skyward pondering as left me with these blabberings.

Wet

The rain, The Rain!
How we hail it! When
we've blamed, the sun
in all it's glory. How we like it
now it's pouring!

Almost There

In half-light I am cycling home
beneath the wings
of bats
who rush through clouds so
dark they've become
dangerous.

Quick, the thunder's coming!