Tornado or Flood?

The other day while I was shopping at Wal-Mart, I received a call from my brother in Iowa. They were in the basement during a Tornado watch. It was an interesting conversation that brought back memories of Iowa's storm warnings--an all too common experience.

This Dark and Stormy Night


blackness replaces the shadows
that usually float on the west wall.
Pelting rain dents the aluminum
window shutters just before
clouds shoot hail onto the roof.


The blanket over my head
blocks out the alarm’s glow,
but not the high pitched wail
of the town’s emergency siren.
It’s a steady screech, warning
this Iowa town of flood,
and with tonight’s blast, a tornado.


We all grab our robes first,
then jeans and sweaters as
we head toward the basement.
We take special care with
granddad. He descends slowly,
testing step after step. Lights
flicker and dim. Darkness.


We grope our way to couches
in the ping pong room. Guarded
by the strongest basement walls,
we exchange lame jokes, stories
about last year’s storms, and compose
mental grocery lists. It’s four A.M.


When the all clear blows
an hour later, we help granddad
upstairs to the kitchen as the lights
sputter and shine. Scrambled eggs
and bacon anyone? We’ll collect
shingles and yard debris later.