Storm a Child's Playroom
Come with me in realty,
as we weather an approaching storm.
Dark clouds gathering
like people coming to see a fight.
And something about this thing doesn’t feel right.
A flash of lightning and thunder rumbling right over head.
A few drops start to fall here and there
then a sprinkle that slowly start to drizzle.
You’re getting soaked to the skin
as you make time to get the clothes off the line.
The wind feels warm and wet,
and yet, bits of hail start to fall.
Holding your clothes like a beach ball
you run for cover as you trip
and lucky for you landing in your clothes
as you fall.
Picking you and your now dirty clothes off the ground.
While you’re being pelted by Beebe's that feel like golf balls.
A torrent of rain begins to pour
if only you can make it to your door.
You are caught between the house
and the car and both are just as far.
Somewhere in the distance you hear a siren.
A storm warning for people to cover.
You hear what sounds like... train engines.
But there is no train station nearby.
The wind is making it hard to breath,
and yet the dust makes you sneeze.
You can hear wood splitting,
branches breaking as trees start to give way...
The muffled sound of them hitting the ground
can be felt in your feet.
The force of the wind in your face has you
leaning forward in retreat.
The rain is relentless like weather gone to war.
It’s never been this bad before.
Now, if only you could just make it to the door.
Caught on the fence as it snagged your dress,
and fear has your heart jumping out of your chest.
Dropping the clothes, as you make it into the house,
into the bathroom.
Trying hard not to pee on yourself,
as you climb in the tub.
Water running down your legs so you let go.
No one going to know.
Pulling the shower curtain closed.
The rain sounds like an avalanche pounding on the roof.
Falling to your knees praying,
like a deeply devout person.
Heavenly Father please if you take the house,
please take the payments too!
I know the house and everything in it that I own,
I know it’s only on a loan.
I pray you let me live a little longer
and with your help I know I will manage to be stronger.
The noise of rattling windows as train engines roar!
Lighting strikes a telephone pole right outside your door.
The loud crack of thunder is deafening
like God choose that moment to speak,
leaving you in the dark, feeling humbled and weak.
Frightened you recite the Lord’s prayer as if for the first time.
But he also made you a poet,
so you remember to thank him in rhyme.
The wind sounds like a pack of wolves howling at the moon
This storm won’t be over none too soon.
The storm rages all of that night.
You don’t remember when you fell asleep.
You woke early the next morning.
Thunder rumbling in the distance the rain stops
And then... And then... all is quiet...
A single bird starts singing...
Then you hear the muffled sound of your car alarm
on the wrong side of the house.
You gather your courage
and venture outside where (to put it nicely)
the neighborhood looks like a child’s playroom.
Copyright © Robert Kinard | Year Posted 2020
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