The storm last night caught us all 
by surprise, a few strong gusts 
the only warning

before a squall line rolled
across the lake and in lashings 
of thumb-sized rain

the sky turned green.  
Anywhere else I’ve lived that
would mean run.

Get down. Get as low as you can.  
Here, it was just the greenness 
of the trees washing

into the liquid sky
with its somewhere sun
the cause of all the thunder,

danger being highly 
contextual, and safety
highly relative,

personal even.  
I delighted at each 
thunderclap, the kid I sat

ran from room to room 
to close the windows 
to keep the thunder out,

not rain, and led us down
to the basement where
the sound couldn’t reach.