Summer Evening Rain

by john horvath

Angry summer turned storm clouds scud across

narrowing horizons lit randomly

by lightning whose cannonades even at

this distance rumble in our ears and our

father shouts come into the house before

you’re drenched or worse but we laughter running

away from invitations to sacrifice the day

to inside we had taken the Sunday

paper from beside his chair and held whole

sections overhead to protect us from

the rain and while running I remembered

how I had looked at her giggling more like

a child each day and her headline read

TWO KILLED IN LIGHTNING STRIKE

could it have been

us suddenly dead amid the laughter

the road echoing emptiness toward

front porch DAD who rises from comfort in

his grand-daddy’s rocker after he reads

the funnies but never laughs only cries

as cocks his head to one side strains to hear

us once again until a green flash of

sunset soothes his eyes Daddy likes the rain

and watches it hoping to see the wet drops

sidle down our arms we dancing with our heads

craned far back open mouthed tongues protruding

to catch a taste of heaven’s water and

he calls out HONEY the kids are home she

says yes they are dear as she always does

using her apron to wipe tears from her

eyes in the kitchen where she always sits

purposeless as a boarded up window

She would have loved to see us just once more