The rumbling stomach
          of the sky releases
Summer’s symphony. Our
          tennis shoes still resting
               by the door and our toes
          free-dance across the mud
that squishes in between.
          Our swirls leave signatures
               deep inside the earth and
          stains bleed through our jeans.
As we spin, the cruel
          words and sibling pains
               of the day drizzle down
          and puddle away from
the thunder that we make.