A Thunder-Storm
Emily Dickinson
1830 to 1886
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The wind begun to rock the grass
With threatening and low, —
He flung a menace at the earth,
A menace at the sky.
The leaves unhooked themselves trees
And started all abroad;
The dust did scoop like hands
And throw away the road.
The wagons on the streets,
The thunder hurried slow;
The lightning a yellow beak,
And then a livid claw.
The put up the bars to nests,
The cattle fled barns;
There came one drop of giant rain,
And then, as if the hands
That held the dams had hold,
The waters wrecked the sky,
But overlooked my father's house,
Just quartering a tree.