June 5, 2025
John Dos Passos Coggin
Summer Thunderstorms at Camp Sea GullNorth Carolina’s vast swamp of June air rises,
rising several miles until the updraft hits a ceiling,
the cloud flattens, the sides sharpen into anvil horns,
and the great sky forge begins to fall as rain.
The NOAA weather radio in my cabin beeps
and delivers stern, stentorian warnings.
The sky shifts purple, blue, and black.
The first gong smash of thunder wrecks
the false bravado of boys and men.
A sudden gust of wind and the flags
are beating a fury, trees tremoring.
Then, heavy rain, at last. The Neuse River
sloshes and sprays like a vat of boiling tea.
When the sky quiets to a murmur, campers
shake in their cabins like little engines,
hankering for activity on land and sea.
In the after-storm sun,
the boats shine like bullion.
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