Afternoon Storm

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Rolling thunder symphony
Electric scenting raw nostrils
The caress of cascading water
Another cymbal’s lighted crash

Something primal in me squats
Taking in my tight, warm shelter
Ticking off my food supplies
Tasting the sugar in my hot tea

Out back, the horses hunker
Under a spreading Ponderosa Pine
Something primal in them, too,
Tails turned to the lashing sheets of rain

The hummingbird perches on the feeder
Wings from 70 beats to zero
Heartrate still above 1000
Furiously in motion within iridescent pause

The sky sheds gray for a sickly green
Blurred in pouring fury
Then it, too, lightens to dishwater,
Next a towel wiped with dirty hands.

Betrayed by rays of sun,
Twisting soft water back up to the sky,
Earth scents perfumed with pine
The storm forages on for new prey

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