The First Poem by Carolyn Brunelle

A darkness rides in
on the wind; always
a foreboding sign.
Nature grows quiet
as it creeps in across the skies;
not even the birds want to fly.
Heavy and full of itself
it wreaks of its burden;
a distinctive smell hangs in the air.
A sudden smack of exploding light
shocks, startles;
scared we jump, run for cover.
In one thunderous eruption,
it spat itself out; violent torrents
gush through streets
flow in rivers from rooftops.
First storm of Autumn
puts on quite a show
as it blows itself across
an October sky.