Post by Deleted on Mar 26, 2020 0:30:38 GMT -6
Uncle Walt's Farm
Uncle Walt's farm does not stand anymore.
Only the cellar remains,
haunted by screams of the family.
Winter wind's anger approached like on-coming trains.
The meteorologist told of the coming storms,
warning everyone to stay home, be safe and inside.
There would be damaging winds with several inches of snow
but what would become a mystic could not have scried.
Uncle Walt stood at the front room windows
watching the world slowly turning to white.
The wind a banshee rattling the glass.
We all watched as the day slowly became night.
Late into the evening the gods were at war.
Transformers exploded, live wires danced on the streets.
Roaring wind amid hail unlike any before.
Snow thick and blinding, all falling in sheets.
Things hit the house and the house seemed to moan.
Soon everything would be going to hell.
Mother tried to reach anyone on the telephone
but the line was dead as if it seemed to foretell.
Suddenly a tree crashed through the kitchen window.
The sound was enormous and we all shrieked in fear.
Uncle Walt yelled to get to the cellar.
It was time for us to get out of here.
The cellar door was outside at the side of the house.
We ran desperately as things crashed all around.
The door like a hole, we all like a mouse,
a salivating cat on our tails and quickly gaining ground.
The cold wind froze our faces as soon as we stepped outside.
It was then the tornado sirens blasted the air.
We covered our heads with our arms as we rocked side to side.
Uncle Walt wrestled the cellar door but it was all in despair.
Debris flew through the air, no longer mostly small.
I joined Uncle Walt and we finally made the door rise.
We yelled “Go!” to my mother and little sister,
protecting our heads and trying to shield our eyes.
Mother screamed that we all needed to get inside.
In the distance we could hear an approaching train.
Uncle Walt and I stood frozen looking at each other.
The sound was enough to drive one insane.
The door slammed down after we had all raced inside,
now safe in the shelter, hunkered down, shaking in fear.
My little sister cried and I held her close.
We hoped and we prayed against the rage we could hear.
What seemed a long time was not long at all.
We raised the door slowly making our way outside
to a world that none of us would care to know.
Where gods had spilled blood, where surely many had died.
Soon others made their way out, everyone looking around.
Uncle Walt's house was destroyed, the farm mostly far away.
Destruction and chaos was everywhere to be found.
What was left of any animals at the time hard to say.
Uncle Walt stood as a General surveying the scene.
For a while no words needed to be spoken.
We stood beside him, my mother's hand on his shoulder.
All of us understanding that his heart had been broken.
We were all safe and of course that is what really mattered.
Many suffered more, some not surviving the night.
Not to take away from Uncle Walt, his life being shattered
when the gods went to war. When nothing was right.
--msl2020
Uncle Walt's farm does not stand anymore.
Only the cellar remains,
haunted by screams of the family.
Winter wind's anger approached like on-coming trains.
The meteorologist told of the coming storms,
warning everyone to stay home, be safe and inside.
There would be damaging winds with several inches of snow
but what would become a mystic could not have scried.
Uncle Walt stood at the front room windows
watching the world slowly turning to white.
The wind a banshee rattling the glass.
We all watched as the day slowly became night.
Late into the evening the gods were at war.
Transformers exploded, live wires danced on the streets.
Roaring wind amid hail unlike any before.
Snow thick and blinding, all falling in sheets.
Things hit the house and the house seemed to moan.
Soon everything would be going to hell.
Mother tried to reach anyone on the telephone
but the line was dead as if it seemed to foretell.
Suddenly a tree crashed through the kitchen window.
The sound was enormous and we all shrieked in fear.
Uncle Walt yelled to get to the cellar.
It was time for us to get out of here.
The cellar door was outside at the side of the house.
We ran desperately as things crashed all around.
The door like a hole, we all like a mouse,
a salivating cat on our tails and quickly gaining ground.
The cold wind froze our faces as soon as we stepped outside.
It was then the tornado sirens blasted the air.
We covered our heads with our arms as we rocked side to side.
Uncle Walt wrestled the cellar door but it was all in despair.
Debris flew through the air, no longer mostly small.
I joined Uncle Walt and we finally made the door rise.
We yelled “Go!” to my mother and little sister,
protecting our heads and trying to shield our eyes.
Mother screamed that we all needed to get inside.
In the distance we could hear an approaching train.
Uncle Walt and I stood frozen looking at each other.
The sound was enough to drive one insane.
The door slammed down after we had all raced inside,
now safe in the shelter, hunkered down, shaking in fear.
My little sister cried and I held her close.
We hoped and we prayed against the rage we could hear.
What seemed a long time was not long at all.
We raised the door slowly making our way outside
to a world that none of us would care to know.
Where gods had spilled blood, where surely many had died.
Soon others made their way out, everyone looking around.
Uncle Walt's house was destroyed, the farm mostly far away.
Destruction and chaos was everywhere to be found.
What was left of any animals at the time hard to say.
Uncle Walt stood as a General surveying the scene.
For a while no words needed to be spoken.
We stood beside him, my mother's hand on his shoulder.
All of us understanding that his heart had been broken.
We were all safe and of course that is what really mattered.
Many suffered more, some not surviving the night.
Not to take away from Uncle Walt, his life being shattered
when the gods went to war. When nothing was right.
--msl2020