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.