This morning thunder shakes me out of bed
and there is Molly the dog at the screen door
whining to come in.
Shirtless and shoeless, I join her outside
to watch clouds roll in from the southwest,
together we make a dash for the tobacco barn.
Around the vernal pond with its yellow irises
past the blooming elderberry bushes
we arrive at the barn at the exact instant
the shower begins to pelt the metal roof, 
those few minutes are like being suspended 
in the time at the end of your life
when your mind leaves your body.
As my once young and agile self
I float to the top rail 
and look down
as the last stick of tobacco is being handed up,
all those fellas  
I worked for and with 
are gone now and yet alive with me here,
their names etched deeper than tombstones.

The cessation of the pounding rain
is more sudden than when it began.
Molly stands close,
wonders what my next move will be