Thunderstorm

There is a storm overhead
Her head is in the clouds

Her feet are bare; in the rain
No need for a coat

As the dogs howl and the swirls dance; heavy in sound
Crack above startles the cat

A walking cliché in the blast
As the water cascades

Pelting the shed
And the window pains

She sits on the grass
Content in the cold

The downpour is the voice
To reason her words

Existing in time with the breath of a girl
The gale rages on

As she ponders its anger
And hums to its song