It comes pouring down.
Dark clouds are birds around a feeder
They come closer and get darker
Brilliant light streaks pale
Compared to its backdrop
For a second, it is all you can see.
When it fades, you hear a loud clap
This clap is followed by
millions of pounding feet,
The tree branches are whips, back and forth,
The puddles turn into oceans
Flowing down
This is a storm
