Across the horizon, rain engorged clouds
invade and banish the light.
Massing, advancing, displacing the brightness
as the army infiltrates and defeats.
A curtain swirling down slowly, surreally
a wall of dark threatening obstructions.
There toward the western plains stray tendrils
of delicate sun pierce the obstacles.
The sky turns the color of some quaint abstract
painted by an overactive imagination.
Late summer fields, the lake, and forest
are perceived in a different way.
Oak trees once adorned with a dark green headdress
mutate and become a shade of black.
The lake once a brilliant light color of pea green
darkens, deepens, and dances.
Upon the surface an avalanche of hues, azures, pinks,
and yellows mingle and reflect the beauty.
A late summer crop of wheat melts and rebuilds itself
transforming from light gold to a richer shade.
I reach almost imploring to catch the last shaft of sun
hoping to change the canvas back
Helplessly I watch as the beam wriggles free and disappears
laughing and taunting as it goes.
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