Standing on the Porch with Charlotte, Watching Her First Storm
I don't know how she'll respond -
the sudden sound of thunder,
the flashes of light -
so I hold her close, prepared
to cup her ears or hurry back inside.
I've seen storms, so instead I look at her,
watch her watching. She doesn't know
what this or anything means.
I kiss her cheek. She grips my finger.
She has no idea what's there in the distance.
By Jeff Tigchelaar
Standing on the Porch with Charlotte, Watching Her First Storm first appeared in Flyway
Jeff Tigchelaar's poems appear or impend in Best New Poets 2011, Court Green, Flyway, Grist, Harpur Palate, Hunger Mountain Online, North American Review, Southeast Review, Tar River Poetry and Versedaily.com.
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