Saved By a Bunting

Nostalgia and I sat waiting rain and more breeze my wind chimes all sang. As I rocked pines swayed a summer wreath held bird nest right on my front porch. The honey inside I sat alone looking up At churning dark clouds. I thought, what strange sight afternoon turned dark as night could rain storms cause fright? Four fledglings shivered I'd been accustomed to mom tweeting to her nest. This bunting lingered hovering low for me to see I needed to flee. That's when I rose and as I opened glass door mean wind intervened. It snatched hostage screen I had to close wooden door April's mood was sore. The newsman confessed storm turned tornado at best we stood in darkness. We saw pine trees snapped from kitchen window we saw mighty trees toppled. Then wind and rain stopped just like that April's mood changed she'd come to destroy. Neighbors filled the streets many homes were demolished ours had small damage. The spot where I sat rocking was also hot spot but I was saved. I would've been chopped then blown far to smithereens like innocent four. Our neighborhood was war zone sans any bodies folks scouted about. While I waited rain the Aunt and her husband sped by shocked I was out. I think to myself to be spoken to by birds is like words from God. * Written for: Debbie Guzzi's Three Line Poetry contest, April 14th deadline (Three Line Poetry)