I stare into the bright red sky,
admiring its beauty
When I suddenly remembered my fathers words
“Red in the morning, sailors warning”
I head inside and wait for the storm to come

I can’t imagine that something so serene
can come before a storm
It seems unlikely that the crayon red sky
could ever inherit dark ominous clouds.
But they always show
and I am shocked every time

In a matter of hours
the picture perfect view will be a nightmare
the warm moist air will be filled with rain and wind
knocking over trees and houses.
Cutting power lines
rendering some machines useless

I shall savor the time I have
and play in the beautiful sun
and perfect temperature
waiting,
for the storm.