Scrapbook Page, Sort Of

I shared this poem over at MMW and also at ANWA and blogged about how I might not be great at scrapbooking, but I do capture the little moments in life with words. I'm posting it here, too, because I just now noticed that I haven't had a post on this blog in almost a month. Sheesh. What have I been doing? Who knows. Reading books, driving kids to school & the orthodontist and reading more books. I think my writing schedule (and I use that word in the loosest sense) - might resume after Labor Day. Thanks for stopping by

Storm Watchers

We sat on the lattice-back patio chair
You and I
To watch a storm
Because in the desert, rain is a spectator sport
Water spattered on the rocks
Tapping rhythms
You sang the alphabet song
Somewhere around H-I-J-K
The thunder clapped directly above our heads
Like you had the fast-moving gray clouds for an audience
Your eyebrows snapped up like rubber bands
“What was that?” Your shock sent up a hand to cover your mouth.
“Thunder.” I explain.
You still scanned the yard and the soggy grass
Looking for a culprit
A gust of wind pushed the rain horizontal
And I knew our moment on the edge of the storm was over.
You clung to me with your four-year-old arms and legs as we scrambled inside.
We stood behind the glass door,
Watched our dusty patio chair get drenched
And laughed.