Why stop...?

to end a thirsty night (6-10-09)
etched and echoed
in subtle shades
of blue on black
darkness falls
to sheets of light
orchestrated
by a symphony
of croaks and moans
punctuated by the silk
of distant rumbles
as storm clouds skulk
across the hills
and gentle breezes
caress the trees
to the plippity tap
of lazy drops
soaking the sand
and spreading relief
as insect melodies
weave an alien song
to the beat of the night
and the sponge of life
sucks away this drought