First Lightning in a Year
Sky breaks, black clouds skim behind smog.
In lieu of language the
taxi driver mimics wind and rain, arms wild, eyes electric.
is four walls of white. Gutters spill and shop owners
watch the sky,
brooms brushing impromptu rivers from doorways. City
an hour away from perforating everything. Dao le,
I say, we have
arrived. Dong yi xia, wait a moment. Four seconds
of tumult and
I'm inside, five minutes of stares then more dampness
and I'm back in the cab. The city's rhythm
slows to the silence
of breaths held between thunder
claps. Trees tango,
and I say wo xiang qu Xi Hu, take
me to the lake.