Storms

Clouds are building 
out west above 
the mountains where 
the cold air 
of peaks meets 
the hot air 
of the plains 
like so many 
dinners when I 
was a child 
where the anger
of my father 
infused with brandy
met the cold
shouldered stare of 
my mother and 
the worst storms 
one could imagine 
erupted into the 
tears of blood 
lust and fury