Child's Play

The storm
In its coming
Is not subtle
Announcing its arrival with thunderheads
And wind
bending trees
like children's fingers
It clears the park of strollers
And strikes its lightning
Just outside town

We rush
Some of us
To shut our windows
and bar the door

We wait for thunder on rooftop
Heavy
unrelenting
dismal
downpour

But the storm
In its passing
Is full of surprises
gentle rainfall
and a sudden glimpse of sun

Like an angry child
Diverted by some game
The storm thunders
And then races off