The Perfect Walk

Skies whisper of the impending storm
My fingers flex; testing the bite in the air
Overhead, clouds are marbled
Different shades of black and gray
Mirroring the asphalt and concrete underfoot

Overeager raindrops hitch a ride on a gale
Wind and dust dance
Swirling around me; twisting, tugging my hair
My pace quickens; moisture kisses my cheeks.