Storm Sestina

They roll in like massive trucks, these clouds

so grey and menacing, sputtering and roaring.

Shooting small bullets of cloth-penetrating rain

these monsters growl in pleasure. My breath comes

in short gasps as I run down the street toward

my house. I run in fear looking for signs of lightning

or power lines down. I round the corner and lightning

pierces a tree, hurled down between the clouds.

I shiver and press on toward

the light glow of home. The wind is eating and roaring

down the street. People say that when the rain comes

everything turns into an ocean. The streets run like rivers. Rain

changes the entire town. They bow before the coming reign

of the storm. Words sizzle in the air like lightning,

striking down opposition. The terror comes

in the early spring as flowers blossom. The rolling clouds

haven’t begun to grumble and yet the word “storm” is roaring

through the streets. The weatherman points toward

an impending mist. A circle of dots which will turn toward

us at any moment. A hush falls with the first rain-

drop. It smashes into the ground and sirens begin roaring

overhead. That was when I ran worried about lightning

striking my house. I gaze at the huge black clouds

bearing down on the city. Swirling and dancing, it comes.

Hungry, wide mouth gaping, it comes.

I reach my door and stumble toward

the kitchen. My sister sits watching the clouds

laughing and clapping, keeping time for the storm. The rain

blurs the window and my mother rushes to me. Lightning

cracks outside and my sister stops clapping, roaring

instead at the noises outside. I wish the viscious clouds would not roar

but merely eat and leave. The cloud comes

ever nearer to the city. The lightning

claims an electric pole and it tips precariously toward

our window. Mom grabs my sister and prays for the rain

to stop. All we can do is pray in the face of the clouds.

The storm roars itself to sleep and the clouds roll

toward the south again. The lightning did not hit

the house. We are safe till the next rain comes.