In the evening, all the birds are singing
deep purple rolls accross the horizon
and the weather man is talking of tornadoes,
funnel clouds and hard-candy hail
I look up at a striking ray of light
solid like a shining platinum sword
beaming down onto the street
burning out from beyond the rounded belly
of a pregnant, black cloud
up ahead, there are two skies
the blue sky
and the violet sky
divided in stark contrast
by a veil of heavy rain
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