We kept north beyond the outlines of homes
past scant wind bruised family towns
and historic barns holding well grayed frames
left in the wilder striving weeds.
We drove on into the arms of mountains
patterned by shadows of slow clouds
until rolling thunder broke around us
ravaging leaves and our bored souls.
Wind and water rush into fresh danger
when the storm passed through our limbs
the naked half of the pines stood deeper
and the green dabbled in guessing time,
Whispering signals with the dawned sunlight
lingering in collected drops
so the trees would sprinkle chilled rain and sap
in the gentle cloud span that woke with us
saying Go gently underfoot.