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Last Night
My dark blue converse swung through the crisped golden leaves. A few blades of grass, still late-summer green, poked through the blanket of yellow. The scarlet serviceberry leaves danced in a sudden gust of wind. The dead grass waved crazily, bristly beige tops bobbing like buoies. The breeze smelled of the thunderstorm on the horizon. Dark gray clouds were starting to creep over the hills, pushing the last week´s blue skies out of the valley. A crack of thunder echoed from the distant cumulonimbus clouds. It was going to rain tonight.
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