Thunder droned in the background
like someone used to luckless love,
while my son splashed in puddles,
far removed from concerns
that grew up next to me
about lightning seeking out rings
or crashing through windows,
as if a inapt thief,
and for a moment I gave the low probability
of tragedy just enough derision
to feel like someone who laughs at lottery tickets
or doesn’t believe they can cut themselves
on a broken seven years of bad luck,
only to end up thankful as the blue sky
chased away the dark clouds.