Approach

Beyond fir cones, waving pines,
yellow grey clouds rain,
thunder threatens,
breeze and sun retreat.

On the path, I hesitate
anticipating the storm’s breath.
The clouds have not arrived,
but drops already swell the stream.
Bangers on a suddenly narrow sidewalk,
they rumble, proclaiming their turf
where now I am an uncomfortable stranger.

The wind shifts,
the yellow grey arrives,
glances,
passes.

The air is clear,
cool now, but
under the pack,
my back
sweats.