Explore "Summer Storm" by Bliss Carman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The hilltop trees are bowing / Under the coming of storm. / The low, gray clouds are trailing / Like squadrons that sweep and form, / With their ammunition of rain.
Then the trumpeter wind gives signal / To unlimber the viewless guns; / The cattle huddle together; / Indoors the farmer runs; / And the first shot lashes the pane.
They charge through the quiet orchard; / One pear tree is snapped like a wand; / As they sweep from the shattered hillside, / Ruffling the blackened pond, / Ere the sun takes the field again.