Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Debris by Wind/. Another try...Tracking...





Right after the rope
snaked back to sky,
I know it is still chasing me.

Straight-line winds behind the funnel.
Rope, wedge-
makes no difference...
It comes....

Am I the farm?
Intact?
Or rotating
vertically sky-
ward.

And in that vortex
of wind, hail, rain,
the track is lost.


The Doppler spins
uselessly,
eliminating the red dot
in the pink background.


The sirens are hushed.

I am in that convergence,
swept up
in dirt:
debris.

Violently rising,
spotlighted in power bursts. 
Line snapping tracks,
the vehemence of hopes dying...















































Damn I still think of you and wish you happiness.  May it be so for you.


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