a poem

summer storm

dark, billowy clouds roll in

wind starts to tangle with the treetops

it smells like rain

drip       drip

then

a creshendo of thunder gurgles through the belly of the valley

rain comes down harder now

fat rain drops land on my skin-warm because it's summer

a crack of lightning illuminates the sky

I will the sky to let the rain come harder

nostalgic for the times when I was young

during a good storm when the rain would fill the gutters

we'd run up and down the street in them

get sopping wet

but the rain doesn't last long

burdenless clouds slip over mountain peaks

blue patches of sky appear

probably to the delight of the boys that went golfing

my storm is now a memory