Twister

Twister

Always the same.
The long, green grass as far as the eye can see.
First swaying,
lovers lost in a slow dance.
Then,
waves whipping across a pond.

Yesterday we were pulling weeds in the garden,
Boiling water to cook pasta,
Driving our 10-year old and his friends to soccer practice,
Holding hands on a walk through the park.

Now we barricade ourselves in the basement
And comfort our children,
“Everything will be all right.”
As the twister grows in power.

The twister rallies tanks and flame throwers and obedient young men.
Tears drip down the cheek of our neighbor’s child,
Her mother clutching her in her arms
Desperately searching for cover.

The old man in power
Can no longer understand that no means no,
Rapes what he sees
As his to rape.

Clocks no longer match our perception of time.

Then one day the green field is back to a sway.
The survivors lie down together in the meadow,
Look up to the merry-go-round
Of clouds in the sky.
And all wonder.
How many more times?