We didn't exactly plan on visiting Emily Dickinson's grave during a thunderstorm, but when the sky opened up, we were with it. Actually, it was friendly thunderstorm, as far as thunderstorms go--nothing like the poem below. A mess of rain of course, but just one big knock of thunder, and the light tore a hole in the clouds.
The Wind begun to rock the Grass
With threatening Tunes and low --
He threw a Menace at the Earth --
A Menace at the Sky.
The Leaves unhooked themselves from Trees --
And started all abroad
The Dust did scoop itself like Hands
And threw away the Road.
The Wagons quickened on the Streets
The Thunder hurried slow --
The Lightning showed a Yellow Beak
And then a livid Claw.
The Birds put up the Bars to Nests --
The Cattle fled to Barns --
There came one drop of Giant Rain
And then as if the Hands
That held the Dams had parted hold
The Waters Wrecked the Sky,
But overlooked my Father's House --
Just quartering a Tree --