A flash, a flash, a flash of light. A bolt, a bolt, of energy. A man alone, on a sleepless night, wrought with desire of a lover’s heart, alone he sits on the porch watching mother nature play her song and weeps and weeps. And sobs a sob. Approaches a mongrel, sits the mongrel, side by side, day by day, year by year… death by death… the thunder rolls and the rain pounds, a love is found, in a beast, in a friend, a love not found in a man. Alone in love alone themselves, the lightning flashes, a bolt, a bolt. A flash. a flash. The thunder comes and calms the storm. The storm is past, desire is naught.