Most Storms Don't Amount to Much

Two squirrels compete in a fir
For a territory. Two
Spiders contest prime driftwood
Real estate down on the shore.
Birds announce activities
And intentions in the spruce.
A dying man chats with them

All, or at them, while thunder
Grumbles like an uncertain
Watchdog, not about to lunge
But clearly considering
The possibility. You
Tempt me to wait to tempt you
The swimmer says to the sky.