Home Before the Rain Comes

shoes dangle
from my fingers and
I ease my way home
with bare feet patting
a damp trail of dirt and roots.
milky skies
lie on treetops and moist air
clings to my skin.
there’s a rush in the wind song;
did I close the window
and the smell of woodsy earth
and invisible rain falls,
tapping against the
leaves above me;
the sky crackles and then
a flash-
and I begin to run.