Parkersburg

Parkersburg
May 25, 2008

"When it comes, the landscape listens,
Shadows hold their breath"
- Emily Dickinson

Five minutes, they said, after
the sky darkened Mother Nature
held her breath. Five minutes
before she exhaled with such force
trees, the sturdy beams of houses,
fences, people huddled in their basements,
bowed before her. All that she touched
she took with her, hoarded
in the form of a grey vortex
that swirled along the countryside
leaving a wound in its wake.

An EF5 tornado is the Finger of God
because God pushes His fingertips
through space, moist mists of clouds,
and touches earth—smudges it as an artist
who scans a canvas for imperfections,
blends lines together to create
chaos.

In darkness, those who still had homes,
were herded from them through debris
by light of police cars and fire trucks,
while sirens and roaring winds
like a jet engine, echoed in their ears.
The rain continued, drenched all that was left
and delayed their digging
until sunrise while their dead
were left buried by mud.

- Tara Smith