Farm Storm by Stephen Schwei

Farm Storm

The barn swallows
the barn swallows
as torrential rains
flood the farmyard.
Escaping dragonflies
fly on the backs
of diamondbacks
and dragons
over beach bums
sand dollars
in front of beachfronts
and sand castles.

Cellar dwellers
lift latches
from hatches
to reap
next to nothing
and gaze at stargazers
as seamstresses sew
new seams in tresses.

The tenant farmer
tenaciously surveys
the tornadic damage.
Whispering winds
whip the air.

Party boys glisten
in the crescent moonlight
peeking through clouds
while the night crawls
with nightcrawlers
so soon after
poor dirt-poor
fish farmers
reel them in
to feed to
hungry city-dwellers.

Fireflies light fires
for search parties
to party
all night long
as jumping
claims jumpers
grab the land
and languishing bulls
fight bullfighters
for honor.

Drops drip
from the roofs and
gush from the spouts
as sprouts reappear
and clouds exit the horizon.

Hoarse horseflies linger,
hoping to alight
on ribbons of flesh
to feast on
the bountiful harvest.

Stephen Schwei is a Pushcart-nominated Houston poet with Wisconsin roots, published in Wax Poetry & Art, Beneath the Rainbow, Hidden Constellation, Borfski Press, and the New Reader Magazine. He has published one volume of poetry, Bluebonnet Whispers. A gay man with three grown children and four wonderful grandchildren, who worked in Information Technology most of his life, he can be a mass of contradictions. Poetry helps to sort all of this out. []

Image credit: Thunderstorm over farm [wallpaperflare]