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Two Poems
by Jim Burns
Thunderstorm
Surreptitious,
it rolls in
to the beat of
distant drums
and raindrops
tentative
and soft
as flower petals,
but upon us
turns nature
run rogue,
casting a net
of black
over the land,
the only light
in the sky
from the bolts
it haphazardly flings
in childish tantrum
just to show
that it can,
and it smirks
as they send
strong men running,
and then it is past,
and in the
stunned silence
in its wake
hovers for us
the hint of
resurrection.
✦✦✦
Old Dogs and Old Men
They still sit in packs in the park,
recalling the times when
they inspired fearful respect
by their inherent wildness
as they went about their day
laughing and cursing,
barking and growling,
ever loudly audacious.
Some practiced their snarls,
to some that came easily
as they sought to dismiss rivals
and appeal to the ladies
secretly enamored
by dangerous boys.
Now as they throw down their cards
or painfully roll over,
bellies imploring a hand,
the ladies who happen to notice
murmur “sweetheart” or “darling,”
but quickly avert their eyes
and move on in neither
fear nor anticipation,
so young dogs and young men,
enjoy today’s sunrise,
because tomorrow
sunset will come.