Thunder Storm Rolling Again
Flash
count to five.
Crash
close my eyes.
Thunder storm’s rolling again.
Flash
count to four.
Crash
can’t ignore
the spider lights arc through my brain.
Flash
count to three
Crash
and I need
to run but I’m rooted in place.
Flash,
count to two
Crash,
look at you
asleep with a smile on your face.
And I’m waiting for one, I’m completely undone
Tears in my eyes and fears the size of a…
Flash,
count to three
Crash,
it recedes
muscles begin to relax
Flash,
count to four
Crash,
sounding more
like it’s doubling back on its tracks.
Flash,
count to five
Crash,
close my eyes
Thunder storm’s rolling again.
#206
Linda Studley 
Wow, you still quake during thunderstorms, even though you are all grown up. Paired with Angels Bowling, it really brings home how a father’s love comforts a child and the child within the adult. Me, I have a mixed history with thunderstorms. Growing up in PEI I was indoctrinated to fear thunderstorms, to run and hide at the first rumble, watching our moms unplub everthing, starting with the TV (even if the stories were on), fling curtains shut even as the dastardly lighting ball was waiting for a victim to come the glass, cries of “Stay back from the windows” and herding us all into the dimmest recesses of the house. And never spoken but the tacit dread for the men – uncles, fathers, brothers, cousins, caught out on the water in their fishing boats. That was PEI. Then came Winnipeg, and the opera of a prairie thunderstorm where we as university students hauled out plastic lawnchairs from our apt building, stretching long legs out as we parked ourselves in the parking lot next to Juba Park and counting the lightning strikes on the spire of the Richardson Building. Grand! Ask any displaced Manitoban what they miss most, and dollars to donuts, most will say : Thunderstorms. I know I do.
My Mum did the same things, covered mirrors too.
Great! Would be perfect as the lyrics to a song.
It does suggest a melody doesn’t it?