Chaos

A warm wind begins to blow from the
South, bringing a black sky,
And the fear
Causes my skin to tingle
And my hair to raise.
I yell,
“It’s coming!
Everyone get in the
Hallway –
Cover your head!”
Then,
Quiet.
Nothing.
The calm before the…
It hits.
Wind –
Destruction –
Chaos.
I’m pelted with sand,
And twigs,
And rocks,
And wood.
Thirty seconds feels like forever
When you don’t know
If you’ll even survive.
This poem © Kevin Walker. Published Feb. 2012.