Calm before the storm
Afternoon hangs in the air, and the birds leave.
Frogs begin to talk to each other, and the heat congeals.
The wind picks up. That sound is not the rain, rather
the tall pines across the road shaking needles, trembling.
The torrential rain takes its time – lightning, then thunder,
of course, but so much wind that palm trees throw
their hair back and the guayaba sheds ripe fruit. Then the rain
– cutting heat from the air like a scythe cuts tall grass – wave after wave.
Douglas K Currier holds an MFA in Poetry from the University of Pittsburgh and writes poetry in English and Spanish. He has published in several journals: Post Grad Journal, Comstock Review, Café Review, Main Street Rag, Stone, Poetica Review among others. Author of three collections of poetry in Spanish and two in English, he lives with his wife in Winooski, Vermont, and Corrientes, Argentina.