Prairie Poetry   
  DroughtPeer Award WinnerFriends Prize Winner

Thunder teases heartlessly,
making sultry promises
it doesn't keep.
Lightning flicks seductive tongues
against my bedroom wall
and then retreats —
while clouds, grown fat with moisture,
hang heavy with intent.
We wait for rain that doesn't fall —

  Naomi B. Patterson
  Copyright © 2003 Naomi B. Patterson
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