Skip to content

The Tornado

You hear its massive pounding in your ears,
and perhaps you can smell its sweet air.
You sometimes witness its unique power.
A raw power unable to be quantified
or described, or fully understood.

You hear its beating heart
as it slams against your home,
tearing shrapnel off your roof
and off the sides of your house.

 

It is like a beating drum of wind
outside your protective walls,
preparing to destroy every little
thing above and around your head.
Every piece of multicolored furniture,
of the hardwood frames inside the drywall,
of steel and bronze nails and screws.
It prepares to destroy it all to dust.

5

You might also like…

Poetry
Poetry

The Last Bat

Joe McGehee

It was the first time that I had ever hated the sound of my own name. "Tommy, you're up," the coach had yelled down from the entrance of the dugout. I was sitting on the end of the bench next to my ...  [+]
Poetry

Dinosaur Seeds

Dawn Vogel

I find Jackie in the garden, digging holes with a stick in a section of the flowerbed that's gone to weeds. "Whatcha doing, kiddo?""Planting dinosaur seeds," she says, beaming up at me. She uncurls ...  [+]