In the Van Gogh Museum of Amsterdam
I almost cried when I came to the painting
Thunderclouds Over Wheatfield.
I almost cry at those moments
when the sagebrush becomes plump,
and the damp, electric smell of about-to-rain
renders the land dark, lush, inviting.
I promise myself that the next time
the rain is on its way
I will do more than roll down the car window;
I will pull over and stand in the air.
—from Rattle #37, Summer 2012
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