Rainstorm

The desperate trees, lighting bolts Against the grayness Of the approaching storm Spilling onto the horizon, Like wild mustangs Racing across the waving prairies Their galloping hoofs becoming Rolling peals of thunder. Rain like a soaking sheet Hanging from a clothesline, Drags across farmers’ fields And yellow raincoats dash over the soggy earth Towards home. Now, dripping raincoats Are hanging behind the door As cold hands are warmed Before crackling flames.