Scent of petrichor
greets me when I open door
watching rain come down
Strange desert summer
cold rain, hail,thunder,lightening
town is in the dark
No lights, or TV
no computer or CDs
just that radio
Sitting in the porch
softly rocking back and forth
searching for some news
nothing to report
some old music, country, rock,
people talking shop
Rain keeps coming down
we sit quietly, relaxed
Sunday in the dark