Storm Chaser

His mind is focused, poised with steady hands.
He’s ready, moving instinctually, letting go.
His body contorted, he gives his weight
to the approaching storm. His face is red
like sunburnt sky. The fire shoots from his eyes
as the ocean swallows the burning orb.
Could it be her, with flesh obscured by boughs
of evergreen? Or is it her, tumbling
through cotton ball clouds, calling his name?
A flash of white, he’s floating with the stars.
He looses grip, his forehead hits the glass.
Perhaps he’s been a bit too loud this time.
He listens, but hears only sounds of sleep,
and steel radiators in the night.