Our Lady of Perpetual Astonishment

Opie helped me seek his sister

wandering before the storm, scenting

overhead shades of cobalt

crackling ear-wrenching

white-streaked raw threats

an unknown countdown at which we bawled

barking at the sky

Mia appeared then bounding, rejoining

storm behind her barely

lightning hurrying at her heels

three animals, ten legs

running as if the thunder could catch us, checking for each other

panting breathless with adventure

first fat sploshes, falling almost friendly

cooling our heat

rain solidifying into stinging

hail pelting damp bodies

hurrying toward home

where we collapse

in glory and the stink of wet fur