Color-commentary: Calling the thunder storm

The skies are starting to show the thunderstorm line is soon to arrive. High wispy clouds pull thinner, fail. Low, there, a mass of gray stone seep slow from behind tall oaks. 8:26

The low thunder rolls. Deep rumbles muted by the distance, growing bolder. 8:29

First lightening. Slight thread taught, pinned from cloud bellies, then cut free. 8:31

Twitter poem: Etched

Day etched lines, marks, pins, float.
Dusk lit alphabets, numerals, tones.
If I lift my lids to see you,
they’ll glare,
and be lost.