Maybe earthquakes

First thunder
and then wind
But the thunder could have been rumbling
And the wind not that great
The thunder rolls again
But followed by clanks, and two-strike motors.
And again by light aircraft
But there has been clouds
And more thunder
With a blast of cool air
If it’s not strip mining
With the concussive wave
Somehow ferrying crispness
It might mean rain
But it’s might mean rain-
ing for days
I might been dancing for days
Naked in the rain
I haven’t
Yet there is thunder
And thunder booms hope
For a spell
Then fades into sunburn
And deliberate breathing

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Franklyn Monk

Poet. Geek. Science fiction aficionado. General freak.
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