Sonnet for a Storm

July provokes a porch-swing laziness,
but hammock-nappers fooled by longer days
and lemonade deny the building stress,
the drama that collects in summer’s haze—

for Provocation likes the sluggish daze
in which her characters, held captive by
the humid air that cultivates malaise,
are pushed to act on passions magnified

by sweat and alcohol. The mottled sky
illuminates the beat before the break;
the atmosphere sucks in a breath and tries
to term the disagreement a mistake.

No use. A temper snaps and sets the stage
to justify a clap of Zeus’s rage.
Fall 2004