by Rob McKinnon
They stepped out of the rubble of the house
which had provided protection
during the height of the storm
but fell apart as the winds passed.
There was an eerie quiet
in contrast to the bedlam they had just endured.
In all directions
all they saw were walls of whirling wind
by the size of the storm
they knew they had a couple of minutes
before the back of the vortex
would engulf them.
They hugged each other after the initial shock
of what had just happened
had been overcome.
No words were spoken
but both were thinking the same thing,
what to do in the small window they had left.
They looked around for something
that could provide protection from the looming
calamity but the only thing that they saw
was the wreckage of the house
which instead of safety would soon
become life ending projectiles.
Still without talking they both had reached
the same conclusion.
As they held each other’s hand
they ran towards the oncoming disaster
which they could see was fashioning
new chaos amongst the turmoil it had just left.
The tornado, as if stunned
by this act of defiance, lifted skyward
and the closer they got the higher it climbed.
They were knocked to the ground
but the tempest had spared their lives.
This time, Nature would not seek further retribution.
Rob McKinnon lives in the Adelaide Hills, South Australia. His poetry has previously been published in Re-Side Magazine, Nightingale & Sparrow Literary Magazine, Black Bough Poetry, Dissident Voice, Tuck Magazine and InDaily.
