Ode to a Desert Rainstorm

The desert heaves

a quiet, tingling breath 

Much like the anticipation 

of a lover's touch

The cumulonimbus fingers

poised above the rigid mountainous spine

twist and tease but yield little

to the frustrated, parched earth

Reprieve!  What I wouldn't give

for a deep lungful of air that didn't taste 

like baked clay

perspiration

suffocation

The sun sets in a brilliant bloody fashion

Spilling over the darkening bulbous

cloud banks

Release!  The water finally oozes free

leaving quarter-sized traces on the steaming pavement

Tension snaps

in the form of ragged streaks

that perform their terrifying dance from sky

to ground

Sharp invasive jabs

into the sand

I hear you can find glass scars in the desert

after a lightning strike

And then...

brief, so brief

the clouds move on

trapped in the funnel of the mountains

offering a grimy shell of respite

as again the thermometer slowly climbs.