in honor of National Poetry Month

i love the Earth after she storms.
in a fit of rage, she pours down her wrath
in fiery bolts and big swollen tears.
she is a lover in a quarrel
who, irrationally, yells out of turn
one too many times
knowing she sounds ridiculous.
ah, but how the sun shines
and the air breathes in crisp and new.
morning afters (so refreshing).
i love the Earth after she storms.

-Anonymous