Blisters
It rained with
finality.
The steady pull of
gravity
Rushed the sweat of
countless clouds
Toward the earth
That had been screaming
for death since May.
Passion overcame
atmosphere,
And the searing heat
On sky and soul
Was hushed at last.
Morning clay could rest
in a silent tomb,
Pain diminishing
And eternity opening.
That was when autumn came.