Rain

The rain here is barely more than mist.
It drizzles, cold and soaking, for hours and hours.

I miss the rain of Oklahoma —
Huge thunderheads rolling in,
Cumulonimbus giants shaking their fists
Getting ready to crash together
And knock the rain from each other in sheets.

Something about thunderstorms
Drives me wild with passion,
Makes me want to dance,
While lightning flashes outside the windows
And thunder shakes the house.

Here the rain is slow —
Persistent, gray, cold —
Like death settling over a house in
Winter.