Thursday, July 27, 2017

Hibiscus Evening (Day 190)

Like the ruby hibiscus, 
hoarding sunlight, 
the evening sky furls. 
Petals laden with rain, 
it curls in on itself, 
and the birds fall silent. 
We wait for that first drop, 
the burst that follows, 
sending spray through our 
window screens and 
faithful fans, always running. 
An almost-August storm, 
borne in on a southern wind 
from down the valley, 
not mountain-split this time. 
We’ll witness the full brunt 
of its clamor and crashing 
downpours, feet up 
on the porch railing, leaning 
into each other, knowing 
only in our bones how it was 
when February paused here, 
shook herself, and filled 
our narrow street with snow.



(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Photo: Andrew Dunn