Sirens

Testing the tornado sirens

on a leisurely Saturday

morning and it feels like

the largest bell in the world

was struck and vibrates

across every single mile

of mid-west midland

bread basket wilderness

world. It's a feeling of

wary-tired eyes,

men in garages just

getting home from work, run

the family down into the

basement, back turned to

the pitch fork and lonesome

gas can. The car is left in

the shell of the garage, family

stuffed in a basement corner

listening to the radio.

But not now.

The sun is out, trees are

budding across a busy four

lane street that fronts our

house.

West of Iowa.

West of a greater portion

of the United States.

Further west of Nebraska, tombstone

giant desert rock

formations, long ago

upheaval enough to break

the world to pieces

and distant yawn valleys,

New Mexico in particular.

Sitting here now sunny Nebraska.

Omaha yawns awake.

Breakfast ready in rooms

of soon.

- - - - - - -

(March 24th, 2012)