Thunder
My dog at my feet
So afraid
Requesting reassurance
While I savor each sound
Each journey in rumbling
Sometimes punctuated with a flash of lightning
And in a few seconds
A sharp crack of thunder.
The trash truck
A modest earthly competitor
With noisy barrels, engines, and shouts.
Here then gone.
The stillness amplified
The grayness pervasive
the sense of anticipation heightened
Now an evening jet
With enough sonic sympathy
To remind, even to extend
Nature’s recent recital
A temporal metaphor for an excursion in thought
In territory tethered only to the imagination
Territory that invites
Further exploration
through conjured events
Fictitious figures
Extraordinary places
that give new meaning
To other episodes in life.
Aaltoe's Blog 
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