Taking our groceries to the car,
the Saturday sky looms like a bully
like Houston on a hot spring day.
We put the groceries away, efficiently
escaping the rain’s sudden arrival,
just a second faster than the downpour.
We missed the touch of a storm,
and I praise serendipity
with good timing
from my driver’s seat,
reminding myself that
even the tiniest miracle
is its own kind of chaos—
a silent disruption
in the plot of what
we thought was
going to happen.