Poem Before Bedtime

I seem to do most of my best writing in two places: on the bus to and from work and in bed before going to sleep. The former is good for observations, initial drafts, and getting a rhythm going; the latter is quiet reflective time to cultivate the deeper implications of the intial draft and concentrate on elements of craft and language. Sometimes it begins and ends late at night, as in this case:

Gentle

How gentle
this breeze with
its faint scent
of rain to come
yet does it portend
storm that will break
and wake me later
when I go to
crank the window
shut will I stand
in sublime fear and
wonder watching lightning
thunder crashing like
shellfire in the courtyard
and when it diminshes
leaving softer rain
and again a gentle
breeze what is
if anything
changed?

May 4, 2006