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Thunderstorm

The sky is black, lightning flashes against the sky.
As God unleashes his might wrath, the rain pours.
Irrigating our very dead crops and fields.
The cat hears thunder,
A gray shape passes by.
It is the cat so frightened,
going to hide.
I stare out the window, and listen to the sound that the rain makes.
pitter, patter, pitter, patter, on my windowsill.
I watch as the rain comes out of the sky.
Gentle at first,
then with a growing ferocity that makes the wind howl.
A wolf in the wind.
Then once again.
Lightning flashes, the bold, the bright.
Streaks of light illuminating the dark canvas of sky.
Like a painter, some gentle, some rushed, some dark and gloomy.
All are emblazened on the midnight sky.
The thunder roars!
BOOM! The house shakes under the mighty force.
The leaves of the trees and bushes out front, the whip around.
To the wind they are toys.
Things to be abused, broken, then lost.
My brother hides beneath his bed.
Tears streaming down his face.
He is scared.
My parents and my uncles, four in number they talk in the library.
Over the wind, rain, and pints of beer.
I sit at my desk, looking east, and I watch as the rain slows,
from the aggressive pitter patter,
becoming a gentler pit, pat, pit.
then up the rain starts again.
More thunder roars, hail begins to fall.
More lightning shines, and then,
Everything it all starts again.





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