Gyroscope Review 15-3 - Page 41

July: Saint Cloud by Steve Klepetar This evening at six, heat falls away, a curtain tearing from its metal rod. A cold front sweeps in from Canada as wind dances through leaf-thick oaks. To the west you can already see black fists of cloud, shadowy tentacles of rain stretching toward rows of houses in various shades of Minnesota beige. Two crows leap from the tree above my head, swing out into darkening sky. 5䁵