Here I sit
Broken hearted
Only to wait
Not yet departed.

I'm ready as I'll ever be. Trying to prepare any more becomes an exercise in futility.

Everything is packed except this laptop that I type on now. It's home is in a water and impact-resistant case which will be strapped onto the luggage rack, the two dry bags strapped on to that.

I woke with a raging headache. I have my own internal barometer: my head. When the barometric pressure drastically changes, the blood vessels in my head constrict and make my head pound. Coupled with ragweed season allergies, It's pounding now like a giant kettle drum.

Lightening is flashing all around me in the dark, thunder rolling and echoing as if I were in a chamber of nature's last passionate symphony. Watching the Doppler map on the computer, an electrical storm moves like an hurried inch worm from the south and directly through my intended path west to New Mexico.

Normally lightening storms are embraced by me, fueling my spirit. But this morning I do not greet the storm with welcome. I wish it to be gone; 'Move on, Storm. I want to leave now.' If only rain was the single element, I would not hesitate to depart. But electrical bolts with unfathomable power shooting around unpredictably is another element I do not wish to ride in. Especially after hearing yesterday of a rider killed by lightening on the road.

So I will sit here and wait, watching the radar, sipping my coffee in the dark.

Waiting, waiting
Forever more.
For that knock, knock
Knocking at my door.

Bang, boom
All around.
Go away, today
And I will leave town.