Poetry by Michael Brownstein
When we woke, we discovered a tornado came through our town, May 2019, Jefferson City, Missouri
Everything is tumbling to an end,
a rock fall detour, water cascades,
a glint of silver wash and obsidian.
Soon darkness will no longer prevail.
We will see what there is to see, hopeful.
still there remains the curiosity of stars
in the place where a roof used to be,
a tree limb pokes its head into a window
that is no longer a window, but now a door,
and the door that was a door a slab of splinters,
a shade of tornado gray, its lock another hole
in the wall of stutter and tear, hopeful.
About the Poet
Michael H. Brownstein’s latest volume of poetry, A Slipknot Into Somewhere Else was recently published by Cholla Needles Press (2018).
We are living in strange times, indeed. (And here in S. Jersey we’ve had several tornado warnings in the past couple months. This is NOT usual.)
The poem brings out the vivid imagery of the destruction caused by a tornado.
I like this poem. Strong images.
I drove through those neighborhoods, and you’ve captured the sense I felt on seeing the damage. The loss to some of those old structures is sad to see. Homes that were totally devastated stand beside others that seem untouched, which is a testament to the whims of those winds. We were fortunate to not live in the path, being less than a mile NW of the first strike in town.