Summer Suite Part 2

Time is running out darling
Ahead of us lie cops and roadblocks and dry counties and the end of summer
Further on it's bills and then old age and a list and litany of hospital visits
And then our faces will go slack and weathered
Until one day we look in the mirror and don't recognsie ourselves anymore
And it's then we'll know and accept that the game has a start
And a middle
And an end
But for now we're young and we're alive and our eyes are clear
The desert wind blows and the sun shines down and the storm clouds gather
And we're standing on hard cement grounded and calm while the numbers roll forward
And oh how they roll forward

There's a skull behind your face
But you'll rise
I know you're tired tonight
But you'll rise
Just when you think it's too late
You'll stand right up
And you'll rise

And so the storm rolls in from out past the sun-baked housing rows and trailerparks and oil palaces and cattle fields
And now the rain moves in sheets and sadie and christian and I sit in the motel room with the door open and watch the sky
Sadie gets up and yawns and pads across the carpet to grab a beer from the mini fridge
Her sister's out in the balcony walkway that stretches around the front of the building taking pictures of the storm
"hey frances" she says and frances turns around and waves her camera and gives a tired smile
Lightning on the horizon
The power cutting out and then the room is dark and everyone gasps
And then someone laughs in the next room and pretty soon the whole motel's out and the walkway and they're sharing cigarettes at the railing
Happy and open faced
Flushed at the suddenness of a changing world
And now we're all the same
Now everything is good because everything is new
It's electricity in a charging sky
The sound of rain on parked cars in the lot
Stoplights are dead
And in the motel lights flicker back on and life is a drag again
And nothing is good and new
And everyone heads back inside to lie in bed and look at the tv until they sleep
But frances and I stay out on the walkway and I close my eyes
And breathe in the smell of the storm
The richness of earth changing
Of dry things losing their dust and hard shell
The city is quiet except for the wind and the rain
And then thunder cracks with a great clash and rolls in a deep low rumble and the walkway shakes
And Frances leans into me and grabs my arm for a quick second
Then steps back and snaps a photo of the swirling black sky
And looks serious and young and brave
I head back inside as the wind knocks over a pool chair and rolls it across the cement and into the water