Poem From Maryland

We laid in bed all afternoon.

It was hot

so we cranked the fan

all the way to the top.

stripped down naked.

Too humid for snuggling

just laid on top of the sheets

and watched the lightening,

listened to the harmonizing

of rain beats

and thunder bellows.

Sweat drip sticky

ice cubes melt quickly

this weather

is so much better than fireworks.

When we kiss I don’t see them-

I see lightening.

Thunder cracks loud and ominous,

but we two city girls

from near Hollywood-

a place where weather is fake,

weather is backlot studio,

sprinklers and recorded clash.

Where thunder and lightening and rain

does not mean

hot and sticky.

We put on enough clothes to cook dinner

and eat outside on the porch.

Sit below the awning

and watch torrents of water

stream through the gutters,

down the sidewalk, the tree leaves,

sheets of water fall past the roof

and we sit on the porch

and we smile

and we know

ain’t no backlot ever got this right.

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