Thunder purrs its way across the state <br />and I lie low and wonder if the gable <br />will hold fast to its nails. The cats berate <br />me from the dusty cellar. But on cable <br />storms sweep in red. Too soon the water table <br />will swamp the basement. We'll all bob along <br />like hairy apples listening to the song <br />of cyclone sirens hurling warnings down, <br />then choose the elements where we belong: <br />they'll die within the wind; I'll, winded, drown.<br /><br />Julie Bond<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/raining-cats-and-dogs/
