The Time the Lightning Went Down Mountain Street
by Andre John Narbonne


Don’t go under trees they said, but
the way from school was banked with chestnuts.
Only the ghost path
crossing the cemetery was bare.

My heart was in my lunch bag.
I was the fastest boy, but
don’t run they said.

And the clouds were bubbling
black, dark. I thought
they meant business.

A strange dog was drinking from a puddle.
I knew he meant to bite, until

at last I couldn’t resist.
I ran in open spaces
and under trees

I ran under dark and dangerous clouds.
I ran all the way home and stood under the carport
until my sister came home with the key.






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