To my right is sunny sky.
There are blue heavens
and golden rays.  There are singing
birds fluttering through treetops in an everlasting
aerial dance.  There is a chipmunk springing
across the lawn, clutching an apple 
core in its jaws.  Sunshine spills
onto the grass, but no one bothers
to clean it up because on the bright side,
there are only happy accidents.
To my left is the gray squall.
Clouds churn, still heat boiling
into summer storm.  I can hear them roiling.
I can hear the wind shoving
tree branches aside, banging against
front doors.  The birds are silent.  They have hidden
in whatever nooks and crags they call sanctuary.
Instead, there is the low thrum of translucent wings
beating against insect bodies.  
Here I am in the middle,
sitting on my sunroom couch,
watching as sun and storm collide.