The Storm

As soon as the thunder begins to roll,
And the lightning starts to flash.
I look for the darkened clouds,
So tall, humongous and proud.

Now the rain falls, slow and gentle,
Yet still soaking everything.
Its a change from all the dry,
The heat was making everything die.

Letting the rain pour over my face,
Hiding my tears, not of sadness but of joy.
When the rain ends, everything still smells fresh,
And then, for the end of the storm, we brace.

The last lightning flickers in the distance,
And the sky clears after the last rain falls.
What a beautiful storm,
Just before i went away,
I swear i heard a little thunder, like a lone-wolf call.

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