Ode to a Lightning Post:

Oh, lightning post. This is your ode. I found you in the evening, awash with a pour yet to come, and while you could have been made dry by the lightheat, your wetness kept returning the current to your body. I took you home and made you soup. All that weather surely bore you under it, and so I tucked you into bed and prayed for your wellness.

Oh, lightning post. Lightning post. I was the bride of quietness, nightly ravishing. You were my husband, parched tongue; to fill and be filled. Lightning post, where have you gone? Lightning post, you have always been possible.