storm

we stood 
face to face
in half light.

two fronts
waiting out the
other to fall.

an audience
would have noticed
leaves turn
light side up.

my dad told 
me when leaves
refuse to prostrate,
expect rain.

for me though
it was a gesture;
a way to say
i expect a change.

showing my open
hand meant that
i had nothing more
to give.

i needed.

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