The storm came through
Like a drunken step-dad
Chilling everyone it spied
Cowering and huddled away
From windows and doors
Waiting for the torrent
To pass staying calm
And now as storms
Often do it’s sunny
The lid of clouds
Removed and what little
Heat that remained escapes
Like the aroma of
My grandmother’s chicken soup
Taken off the boil
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 