Dry summer days
in a dry year
a dry decade
here in the West the fires have raged
these past three months
smoke in the valley keeps us
locked indoors
most days the hills are hidden
barely visible
behind their shrouds
this afternoon while standing
at the ATM I heard myself
snap at a stranger
something I never do
it seems the heat
and smoke have infiltrated
deeper than just my lungs
tonight the weather channel
is predicting rain
starting tomorrow morning
it's been so long
all I can bring myself
to hope for is a sprinkle
lasting a good hour or two
but if the rain gods
whether Thor or Zeus
or Chacmol choose
to send us more
I will make offerings
and bless the clouds
that spilled their substance
on the thirsty earth
and dance hatless
and shirtless through the yard
happy to feel the raindrops soak me
to the bone