Oklahoma: Tornadoes

Today I am thinking of children.
And parents.
And a myriad of horrific things,
but mostly of parents and children.
I'm thinking of the morning line of cars,
dropping kids off
with brown-bag lunches and backpacks--
and maybe a raincoat or umbrella--
the casual morning "Love you",
the kiss blown to their backs
as they run to catch up with a friend.
I am thinking of
this everyday goodbye,
and the inevitable mind-shift
toward errands and work and deadlines,
toward laundry and groceries and dinner
toward walking the dog,
and wondering how much can be done
before circling back at 3
for pickup and games and lessons,
gymnastics and dance class
and soccer practice.

But at three,
there were shrieking sirens
and freight-train winds
and no time to think
(except of the children,
and where they were;
except of the scary sound
of wind and the horizontal rain,
and the scream of metal
and smell of gas and fire..)
no time to think
of anything but shelter, of dropping down,
and wondering if this would be the end.

And after, after...
too much time to think
of frightened children
clamped together against a wall,
watching their world
sucked skyward in a fountain
of disassembled lifetimes..
exploding without warning,
and ending
for parent and child
with (for memory's sake)
just that last and everyday goodbye.