Blanket Statements

Last night was window sill lightening. I think the thunder must have been away playing at someone else's ear. All I know is, he didn't visit me. But I think he must have been whispering on the wings of the glare, "Shhh...go back to sleep. No need to wake. We'll talk soon." It was a lovely dream storm, the sweetest bedtime story I haven't heard since little girl sleepyseeds. The next time he visits, though, I'd like to swap stories. Thunder needs to speak just like anybody else. I'd imagine he keeps the brunt of what he hears to himself. Why else would he grumble so ruckusly? It must be difficult trailing behind the skysplinters. That would also explain why he stayed away last night. When I feel heavy from secrets and falling short, I don't much like being around people either. The next time he visits though, slow though he be, I'd like to hear what he has to say.