I hear a soundless thunderclap,
see lighning not against the horizon,
but dimly illuminating two inches …
how absurd.
Then I think, I mighty spectator,
cannot illumine my way out of a tin can,
and I am oddly jealous.
It’s a courtship dance,
a call to romance,
and I who’ve suffered my last chance …
think how absurd.
In truth …
I envy their simple majesty.
I who have no thunderclap –
quiet though it is –
and who have no lighning –
I woo with words and …
that truly is absurd.