When Power Is Weak

Sun’s out…bright…cheery

Fruitlessly blazing…shining

through one degree air

TR

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Heavenly Resistance Training

He pushes

I hop humiliatingly

My purse pulls in front at a 450 angle

Hair blows straight forward

Plastic bag speeds past my feet with

tumbleweed pieces chasing

Two hands pull open the car door

He pushes harder

my body shoved against the door

I struggle to enter the car

both hands tug it shut

Car vibrates with His powerful rush

I catch my breath, straighten my hair while

He shoves cloud remnants toward Oklahoma

piling them into a dark stormy horizon

I blow a hair strand out of an eye and

start the car

He still pushes

TR

High Plains Laser Light Show

Concentrated lightning creates energetic, gnarly, skeletal claws underneath both the stars and the bright, sickle moon; and generates bright varieties of barbed, puncturing exclamation marks, taking their time to bore into the ground ahead in the nearby southeast, while we drive home from Dodge City.

Continuous, heavy-duty flashes silhouette distant rain, passing trees, farmhouses, electric poles, and a line of thick, storm clouds—all appearing like on an old movie film, one frame at a time—a natural laser light show, just begging for dramatic war music to play with, since, oddly, it does not produce any booming thunder of its own.

After an hour, we arrive home safely, and the weather station talks about hail up to a quarter-coin in size pummeling the earth under those clouds.

We looked at each other, suddenly feeling fortunate—fortunate to watch a formidable display of power and might without having to experience the damage; a gift not often handed out to people.

TR

The Hour of Bugs and Birds

 

On a drive through Oklahoma and Kansas

when evening dusk approaches

bugs begin slamming into the car

the sides, the windshield, the windows, the roof

like rocks or like glue-balloons that burst on impact

Then smallish, dark birds appear

next to the highway, above the highway, in the grasses

swipping, swooping, swishing around at great speeds

narrowly missing the car, forcing us to flinch each time

The birds are just bug hunting

The bugs are just out for an evening fly

The car is just in the way

TR