Joanne Cucinello

It´s getting ready to thunder outside
dark clouds moving in off shore.
There´s no controlling them
they do as they please
just to spite the sun
that moments ago
was shining and
flashing its
golden teeth.

Pity the poor sun, dying just a little
every day, trying so hard to make
sense of its duty to the earth
and wondering when, like
the thunder, it could
just let loose and
rumble wildly
unpredictable
as sin.