broken clouds

I love rainstorms with
light breezes
and sunny skies
peeking through the charcoal clouds...
it speaks of a promise
I cannot tell,
but I know this:
a miracle is coming...
I can FEEL it on the wind-
pumpkins topple on the porch
as thin whips of smoke
curl up from
chimney tops,
that heavenly aroma of
burning firewood
mingling with crisp autumn air-
perfection in a day