Poem #183 of 365

I stood on the "mountain"
at the Water Gardens
with an upraised and opened
golden umbrella,

wondering if my time
to be struck
would be coming soon,
as the clouds threatened
and the drizzle fell.

I turned from facing east
and my eyes alighted
on the western sky
and I did get struck,

by light and color
mixing in a
palette swirl
one often sees
in a puddle that has
been marred by oil.

A spill of tints and
shapes that slows
the gaze, as you
stare deeply for
a minute, loving
that in the seconds
since you spotted
this growing
display of sunset,

at least 8 people
have joined you
atop that concrete
precipice, so that
when and if
the bolts ever hit

at least you'll fry
watching the most
beautiful 7pm
Tarrant County sky.

copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez