The wheel of the year has turned,
and it has brought storms in its wake.
Distant rumbles, unremarkable at first,
could be passing trucks or a load of timber.
Looming clouds block the summer light
with jagged edges and smooth front lines
as the front pushes itself overhead.
Infrequent growls, the great animal rises
its approach marked by gusts of wind.
Flashes of light announce each giant step,
booming echoes, crackling sound waves
shaking the house and frightening the dog.
And then the rain, cascading in sheets,
pounding in random rhythms on the roof.
Close the windows to keep the room dry.
Open the windows to soak in the petrichor.