Thunder 

We lay on the storm’s tongue.
A flock of water birds landing 
heart first. 
Burst feather. Bull frog legs. 
Wind overturning weeks worth
Of shoulders. How did I weather 
A July without you? 
You make a pearl of each of my eyes.
I pocket them. Give in 
To the forests unknowns. 
Darkness thickening to sound.
Earlier, we lit candles and asked 
The spirits what they wanted 
To leave us with. Handful of wildflowers.
Mushroom fist. Eagle feather.
It’s hard to hear the thunder 
Over the downpour. Leaves falling 
And becoming boats. I want to be always 
Tangled with you when the wind picks up.
In house or home or tent or tea light.
I kiss your forehead. Brush your cheek.
Blue grey sky. Clouds kneeling 
Holding in their pinkness.