Roger G. Singer

Storm Winds 

A heavy wind forced telephone wires to sing.

High topped milk weeds bowed leeward 

from the storm, spreading their bounty into random space.

Lifting sand tapped the front porch.  Shutters twitched

like cats sprayed with water.

An empty bucket tipped, rolling against a picket fence.

A weather vane turned hard into the fury.  Thunder

slapped the sides of valleys and buildings.

Overhead, lightening advanced like armies attacking.

Rain began.  Washing dust from poles and fences.

Shining the old and polishing the green on leaves.

{Roger G. Singer, cabanaph424@verizon.net}