Waiting on a Storm I sit and watch The river before me— Above, clouds amass Deep violet and black, Winds slip by the mountainside, Pushing, running head to head, Pressing sunlight to its side, Rumbling thunder, smashing air. The river now in despair Hurries over cobblestones, On the plains by Dairyman. I jam my hat, winds too high, turn my back on a once fair day, lightning stuns the black-washed sky. Berislav Maroya