The air is shimmering with heat,
attempts at chilling are in vain.
A panting dog strays through the street,
the song of birds has died away.
Limp leaves hang listless on the trees.
The sun sends on its westward way
last rays shrouded in mist.
Dark clouds are brewing in the sky,
a gust of wind raise up the dust,
far distant rumble thunderclaps.
All of a sudden falls a drop,
lightnings flash down to earth.
A cloudburst drums onto the roofs,
the gutter does not take the rain,
the ditch turns soon into a stream.
The storm has gone as it had come,
The leaves, they breathe again.
The birds take a refreshing bath
and then they fly to sleep.
The night is quiet and clear the air.
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Karl Wiener.
Published on e-Stories.org on 08/06/2020.
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