everyone complains about the weather, but nobody does anything about it

air heavy and wet
soft breeze dripping from the sky

wait for it

spring sitting heavy on your chest
leaps off like a cat
when the wind whips up

scurries away in alarm,
hearing the murmuring,
grumbling clouds
making their plans
and shoving the winds ahead as messenger -

you boy, tell 'em we're coming

maybe we'll ride into town like gene autry
singing something soft and purty-like

or maybe we'll bust into town howling and screaming,
loosing our torrents
beating you down with
rain and hail
tossing electricity with deadly
whip-strokes,
driving folks to trembling and to cover.

We might even be persuaded
to send an angry spiral arm
reaching down -
threshing a path like byGod Shermanhellbentforthesea -

stay back inside your curtains
and your casements,
lest death catch your eye
and blow you a kiss

but maybe

maybemaybe ...

maybe we'll just ride on through
like a sleepy Sunday afternoon,
dropping little raindrop kisses
on your babies' cheeks

can't quite say yet

keep watch - we'll be comin'