Storm

Stop signs rattle in the gale
warning laughter redpeeling from
paintblisters like explosions of mirth,
stoplights blink alarm
at the clowntumble of cars in carparks,
the chortle of windowbreak,
bent over laughbabbling trees,
trashcans gleefully rolling end-over-end.

There is a mothertongue of rain,
a monologue of
devil-laugh falling in droplets
hailstone splutter against sills,
polite walldimmed guttercough.
Of course this always leaves
the pavement self-consciously
gathering leaves about itself,
the powerlines spent and bristling
on the ground, the sewers brimming
with yesterday's jokes.

And mornings always bring
a change in thoughts as windchange
a damburst in sentience.