Thunderstorm

The sky is darkening
with ominous rumbling
and birds scatter skittishly.
The smell of damp clouds,
and the taste of their shrouds,
the air is full of energy.
And so, in the absense of sound,
waiting, the earth and the ground
for that light which flashes suddenly.
Holding its breath for the sound of that crack
and life the earth seems to lack,
while raindrops  begin to fall quickly.

Reviews

[Courtney]

I like how you are very descriptive. It rhymes very nicely. That is exactly how it seems when it's about to storm too.

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good intention in poem like this.
but, am thinking maybe too many "eee" sounding word close together. i.e: the first 3 lines - they make poem read lofty & superficial, and not go with word like "ominous" and dark sky.
but skittish birds scatter is good - make me think of sound of little birds.