Tropic Thunderstorm
p. 44 · Read in the full issue
Rain running all over the rooms; And it is dark with thunder hovering— Too dark to read, though the lamp-walk about is lit.
Within the house-cook the coon crouches ’gainst the stove, Joined by his enemy the cat—“lick-lick harp-cat”
This kitten from Madang with broken tail is called.
Rain running away from the roof, Spilling above the tanks already full.
Oh, irony of fate, that tanks have limits!
Rain running away, recklessly, rashly.
Into our lounge come various visitors, Curious creatures —miniature shellbacks.
A dignified crab walks in by the open door, Large as a lobster he seems to be — Ah, How the balsams bloom after the rain And the orchids out of their yellowed stems (I ran out in the rain to look) Not one—but a cluster of twentynine; Orchids at last, trailing the gnarled old tree.
Thunder rolled further and further away Over the sullen bay and past the horizon’s rim Where mountain-islands lay smothered in storm.
Then suddenly came the sun. The steamy skies w Devoured the rain-soaked earth. Blue was the bay again.
The shellbacked visitors vanished whence they came.
I heard the coon in the house-cook pump ing the primus, , Over the hill came the sound of the jeep— “ Master ’e come!” called the coon from the house-cook.