Storm over Prairie
As our friends lingered
on the fruited plain,
the air became hot and still,
and the sunshine
too bright to look upon.
Helms of hiding gathered
under the dripping hall,
and the troposphere became
full of masses
of dun-colored cumulonimbus,
in the shapes of anvils, towers, castles,
air-borne cities
and spired cathedrals
pointed arches
and fearsome gargoyles.
After two double-hours
of stillness, a ripple ran
over rows of grain,
and thunder followed.
All the shelters of birds
were shaken in the gale;
The raven’s path trembled
in the roaring gusts.
Every flower and frument
fell flat before the furor;
Birds and beasts bowed
before the blustering blast.
Darkness fell; day turned to night;
Sky-flames flashed
like skeletons dancing.
Thunder and trumpets
thrummed through the heartland;
The shaper of rain-kites
shook the horizons.
Then came the rain:
Sheets and shafts of shining showers;
Javelins enough of rejuvenator of soil.
It fell in columns
like flag-staves of chariots;
It plunged from the pinnacle
in pillars and pyramids.
The clamor of this sort
lasted a day and a night,
whereafter the prairie and its cities
shone like jewels newly polished.
Each color and shape
stood clearer and deeper;
Every line on the land
more lucid than before.
Buds came open
on battered blossoms;
Steam arose from stone and soil.
Birdsong swelled
from boughs and brakes;
Bullocks and bison belled with relief.