After the Storm

Again, a late night, another late post of a poem. The prompt was in the title.

After the Storm

When the wind takes a breath,

stops shaking the trees in a tantrum,

when clouds seize opportunity, scatter,

swirl and part, and the sun turns water

to steam on the rooftop, you step out

the door, tentative like tulips pounded
by the rain, lift your head, send brightness
back to the sun, to the sky.