To the Moment Before the Rain Falls

A chaos of wind
ties your hair in knots round your neck.
Dried blood bricks tense
against a sheet metal sky.
Leaves whirlpool at your feet in a furious river
that snakes through the buildings.
Proud trees practice yoga,
downward dogging at the air’s dare.
No smell wafts
except anticipation of the ground exhaling.
There is no noise to notice,
all the birds have hunkered down.
But you still stand
staring like a mesmerized fool
who challenges the darkening horizon to come.
The sky stops breathing
and you know the future
a moment too late.