We hear it first
thwup thwup thwup
sand white as
washed bone
spots and darkens
in warning

An unfamiliar wind
pulls clouds
to cover the sun
turns day
to night
in a blink

With a crack
and flash
our clinging clothes
translucent
and icy
to touch

Then at once
rain stops
wind dies
and I feel
cotton drying on skin 
renewed.