Pencil Stubs Online
Reader Recommends


Listening for Thunder

By John I. Blair

Late April night in Texas,
Two a.m.; I cannot sleep.

Pale leaves, soft as skin,
Shiver in the breeze.

Small birds hold their breath,
Frightened at the restless air,

And in a tossing treetop
A squirrel chitters in its nest.

The moon dims;
Stars disappear.

Half invisible
The faintest flash of light

Tells tempest comes,
Gale, rain, hail;

And all that we can do
Is wait.

2009 John I. Blair

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.


Refer a friend to this Poem

Your Name -
Your Email -
Friend's Name - 
Friends Email - 


Horizontal Navigator



To report problems with this page, email Webmaster

Copyright 2002 AMEA Publications