we take cover

on the side patio
trying to make friends
with lizards
from head to toe no longer
than the palm (including fingers) of my hand
out the front door, i count nineteen turkey vultures
swirling and circling
against the huge bright poofs and swells
of thunderclouds filling the north and east skies
and then more enter the scene
gliding, making wide circles,
too many to count
at once
the round squishy stuffed animals
i pull out of the bin at the bookstore
and squeeze the guts out of

we take cover
from the thundery downpour
in the stocked aisles
of CVS
jennifer limping
on and off
her blood blistered foot
from so much sandalwalking
in the off-season