I wrote this poem a couple of years ago after witnessing a flash flood in the extremely rugged Kofa Mountains of southwestern Arizona. It boiled up fast, hit hard, and then was gone:

 

 (Act I)

Plant are torched

The earth is scorched

The sun moves 'cross the sky

 

The wind blows hot

Relief there's not

Just sage and alkali

 

The peaks are jagged

Grotesquely ragged

Lined up in row after row

 

Rock and sand

Ungracious land

A place of dread and woe

 

Ravines cut deep

Their walls so steep

Like twisted, snaking scars

 

Sky are clear...

...than clouds appear

You can see them from afar

 

___

 

(Act II)

Thunderhead

Full of dread

Storm front rolling in

 

Flash of light

Terrible site

Then the storm begins

 

Sheets of rain

Cannot drain

Ground as hard as stone

 

Soon a flood

A wall of mud

The desert seems to moan

 

Quickly done

It's course is run

The clouds are on the go

 

And in their place

By God's good grace

Is stretched a colored bow