Dancing In The Wind With Aunt Ana

‘Lectrical storm,
prophesied my aunt Ana,
All fire and precious little water.

Drum-rolls of thunder
bounced about on the western horizon
like pin-balls.
Ribbony fingers of lightning
pointed toward town.

The wind has caught fire,
shrilled my aunt.
Reach up and douse the wind.

I reached up.
I squeezed the wind.
The wind warmed my hand.

My being is all
birdsongs, wind chimes,
a clarinet in the dark.
Dance with me.

I danced.