The Coming Storm

A storm that was rolling across the plains of Nebraska inspired this poem.

Like a painters canvas, I see the emergence of thunderclouds rolling across the midwestern horizon.

The low rumble of thunder in the distance, and the russle of the leaves sounds the last gasp of summer is upon us.

In the wink of an eye brilliant flashes of white lightening can be seen all across the darken sky.

Cold raindrops drumming a beat of sorts outside my window.

A fire within the coming storm burns fierce and strong slowly releasing it's anger on the earth below.

As the coming storm moves off across the Nebraska landscape, calm is restored once more.

Reviews

[Trikius]

I love storms and you paint a beautiful picture of this storm. You give me the feeling of hearing and seeing these things from my bedroom window. Well written poem.