summer storm

I know when the wind comes,
with electric exitedment
flipping the leaves 
on their backs
like pale-bellied turtles
when the seamless sky
rots into a storm
in the west 
while the blue sits safe
hugging it's knees, 
in the east
I watch as the wind comes again
this time vivid
with fingers casually parting
the trees like hair
curving the supple branches into
braids of green and brown
then
thunder starts in muffled growls
apprehension 
til it rattles in it's cage
a jungle predator among
our droop eyed cows
what a disadvantage
tell me again
how unlikely it is to be struck
by lightning
tell me again
that only the flagpole
and the old oak tree
should be shaking
tell me again that matchsticks 
only burn to the bottom and 
stop there
tell me again that laying cows
don't get hurt
tell me again why summer storms
play us like puppets
tell me again why
I am not surprised
when the first raindrop falls