Thoughtfully Bemused and Thankful - A poem of weather and the streets

Today, the Lake is "on",
which means the warm waters
out to the city's west
breath out moist, dark breaths
forming clouds and rain showers
that carve the mountains down
through optical sleight of hand
to dark and long mesas
punctuated at the clouds' seams
with lone straggler island peaks,
and the big canyons spread
wide as a monster's mouth
seeking to consume the valley.
Despite the ill weather outside
the Library lays calm, abandoned,
by most of the regulars.
Perhaps the weather locked them
within other walls for today,
or they braved the elements
to fly their kites quickly
before the darkest roiling streams
off the Great Salt Lake
bring rain to the city,
ruining their weekly cash cow
of payday on a corner.
I won't need to fly,
got a helluva shock earlier,
when a stranger came up
handed me a goodies bag
and pressed fiver to palm
saying he'd been here himself.
All I can do is
say something here with reverence.
"Thanks, Pal. Every bit Helps."
And someday, hopefully, pay forward,
as I tip the hat.

27September2013 - Dyfedd Rex in thoughtful bemusement.