Summer Hail

The frozen water droplets bounce like hundreds of

free-spirited Ping-Pong balls,

The lush grass forming its own kind of popcorn popper.

They seem to come in straight white lines from heaven,

Demolishing pansy heads in one fell swoop, unlike the

gentler rain an hour before.

The sound is as a hundred prancing feet on the roof,

Or children pounding the table with spoons insisting

they are hungry.

The few minute triumph cannot last long in the soon

returned warmth of summer.

Just as quickly as it started, the ones caught on the

roof liquefy in the gutter curb.

Rain may have the best smell, but summer hail …