-This poem reflects on a summer afternoon storm, when heat gathers into thunder and rain returns the world to breath and brightness.
By three the light has changed its tone,
the blue gone dense beyond the trees,
a darker silver gathers slow,
behind the stillness of the field.
The leaves turn pale beneath the wind,
the porch goes dim before the rain,
and all the heat the day has kept,
waits in the air without release.
Then thunder rolls across the yard,
deep through the roof and window glass,
and summer breaks in sudden sound,
in rain made bright by its own force.
When at last the storm moves on,
the garden breathes, the dust lies down,
and every leaf holds something new,
the cooled and shining weight of weather.