Wouldn’t it be nice if we had a time 

for weather? Say, just after 4 o’clock.
I’ve been waiting for thunderhead all day

like it’s come home just before dinner
in its tucked-in button-down shirt.
Storms aren’t punctual. Storms march

like a line across the commonwealth,
or erupt. I’m tired of eruptions. 
Humidity sweat me out like work,

and I’m still waiting for cool air
and the touchable rain–no longer threat.
It’s easier to manage what I know.