The house was still in the pre-dawn;
I woke to the fusillade of thunder in the distance,
Flickers of light chasing the edges of the sky.
I watched through dim eyes,
Forgetting to count the intervals between light and sound.
The thunder was muffled, except for the occassional rumble
that seemed to crack the night-time sky.
The lightning was diffuse, even to my blurry sight,
shifting from one cloud, to the next, to the next.
Rain came in waves, there and gone, in an instant;
It drummed on the roof, ricochetting from windows
closed against the heat of the day.
The storm moved across the valley,
Leaving only its echo,
As it crossed the mountains,
the rain in its wake.
Fury spent, I lay and listened to the rain drumming over my head.
A cat came and lay at my feet,
Her purrs replacing the thunder,
My clock's glow the only light.
I would pay for this hour's folly in the morning,
With heavy eyes and an aching head.
I closed my eyes and counted the intervals,
Seeking the sleep that eluded me.
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