my toes solid on the ground
the vortex thrashing around
me, my stomach feels the uneasy
tickle of the winds sweeping
threatening to yank me
into the spin cycle of dust and trees
and houses, the screeches pierce
through my ears
to my brain, destabilize me
and I get swept
into the vortex
thrashing limbs,
contorted neck,
dust in eyes,
wind-tangled legs,
without success
i grasp in the air,
reaching for the calm
close, it is there
desperate for the
still center
out of reach
of the tornado
grasp again
for the tornado’s
still
center
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