Woke to rain and the roar of thunder, real damned close, didn’t have to wonder
Mister Seger could’ve counted the seconds between lightning’s flash and the bassist’s
Rumble, but speculation is more poetic, and just maybe he was distracted by the
Lilac scented sky or the percussive rain on a lake and could not be bothered with
Enumerating the gaps. Here, the trees double as targets and shields, but the
Thunder’s reverberations echo through the morning forest and into my soul.
How about a little Bob Seger to start the day? Peace, y’all.
Praying for Eyebrowz 