A crack and a clap of thunder                                                          ­      
Makes you jump                                                             ­                       
Steam rolling off the cement                                                           ­           
In tidal waves of fog                                                              ­                    
The scent of freshly washed                                                           ­           
Leaves and pavement                                                         ­                     
Fresh in flared nostrils                                                         ­                 
The sound of the downpour                                                         ­         
Slaps your ears with splats                                                           ­             
Of condensation                                                     ­                               
But then the clouds rumble by                                                          
Freight train roaring                                                          ­                    
Full steam ahead                                                            ­                          
Lightening striking    
So close you can smell the
Burning scorch
Of electric
And then gone in a wisp of smoke