top of page

So Soon the Thunder Rolls

Person in dark woods, dancing, blue umbrella

In the distance the thunder

but the mosquitoes

are swarming.

Life implodes.

From out of the shadows and

swampy places, they ferry

and probe for warm and

tender spots to draw their blood.

They carry on the wind.

They dance against the moon

and invite themselves into

quiet nights and

cabin-ed conversations.

Brighter days of sun

hordes can destroy,

with eagerness

and numbers.

But the thunder rolls

and soon, sweet rain,

the end of torment.

We retrieve what we can

but days can be lost.

New legions take the swarming place.

We suffer. Our world looks different.

Beauty turns to restless discontent,

the eagles now mere objects in the sky.

The August sun a parchment.

The blush of nature,

only dulled and empty.

But the thunder rolls and soon,

sweet rain.

The earth is revived.

The summer is extended.

The life force is back.

And we can reach into the level

of our dreams to whisper

of good news once again.

Did you know than an adult mosquito can fly up to 14 miles in its search for a host? (

Or that mosquito wings beat 300 to 600 times per second? (

Such is the wonder of this troublesome pest

I can so happily destroy

with a slap of the hand.

Rain on window, golden, the Poetry of Life

John A. Bragstad is the author of two books: Compass Season and The Poetry of Life BOTH available at Amazon.

Images courtesy of a great site:

bottom of page