The High Shelf

I want to become someone else today.
And, in wishing it down from the high shelf,
Will this in fact bring out more of myself.

In my chair I rock to a slow cadence.
A mantel clock between my shoulder blades.
A timpani within a symphony.

Clever, how the first rain of fall arrives
As the introduction is preceded
By a trembling percussion of thunder.

I rise to gaze through the rain-flecked window.
But the someone else that I will become
Shall not think twice to leave & greet the storm.