Down the highway we saw it,

the black wall of storm.

The car in front disappeared, then we were hit.

The noise, the thrash of water.


Before going in we saw long blasts

of horizontal lightning,

and to our side, a fainter rainbow


And vertical strips of narrow white clouds

hanging like shrouds,

like a curtain if

curtain were a word for glory.


How can they know rain

who do not live on the arid plain?


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