THUNDER
I grew up with thunder
Fascinated
Boyhood storms with claps and flashes
Warm summer squalls and autumn tempests
Charmed by the pelting cadence
Then the flare and counting, one, two,
three
A jolt of cannon fire,
Shaking glass, cracking trees
Then silence in the rainy land
To which I moved years ago
Where thunder is seldom heard
But for this morning
Five o'clock, the rush of rain outside
And surprisingly the welcome sound
Of thunder.
© JULY 22, 2016
