Is it too much?---
The rain that falls and floods the front ditches,
carries leaves and debris in streams
with tributaries of stones and bits of shingle
rushing toward culverts, fllled and pouring
down the wet glazed street?
A tornado warning screams in the background.
Lightening strikes a hill, I count for distance.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Outside, a squirrel peeks over sodden shingles
and cusses at my sulking cat.
traffic stops beneath a blanket of black.
I love storms
The boom of bass,crackle of fire, wind in force
driving down the trees.
Inside the man is a boy standing in a cave's mouth
awed by the unknow, waiting for the next.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Or waking from a sound sleep to sounds
of explosions and sparks,smoke filling up a life.
I can take again all I need for provisions;
The song of birds, wind that bends around the corners
and dances with the weeds, an old love.
I have died before and started over. whats this to me?
Come back one more time and try me.
My heart won't die.

I really like this. I am a lover of storms myself and have often Counted for distance. The last three lines kind of throw me, but all in all I find it a great piece. ~B
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something sinister about this poem or this storm, but then so delicate the last line, jake - not enough to change the tone, but an addition.

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Nice poem - I especially like the last stanza. Lord Ag.
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it is a sweet one
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..remarkable change
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I like te last two lines. They really speak for themselves. Fapral
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thanks all putting this one to bed....fri pm...Jake
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As I take a wiser look, I can see that the last line isn't the softness it appeared to be. It rather hopes complete the objective of the poem.