Tranquil blue and billowy white, turns gray and dark, hint of night.
Spring showers gone, rocks of ice, things outside will pay the price.
Quietness, stillness, sirens sound. Heart racing, to the underground.
Gentle breeze, soft and warm, turns violent, cold, funnel form.
Electric blue brightens the dark, sounds like the world's being torn apart.
Protective walls secure all around, blown to bits, fall to the ground.
Chaotic, loud, cover your ears, close your eyes and feel your fears.
Eternity, eternity, so long, but so fast, will this day be my last?
Then silent, still, is it gone? What if I move, what if I'm wrong?
The stench of mud and wet grass, electric sparks and broken glass.
It took the trees, it took the homes, it shattered lives and broke some bones.
It has no guilt and no remorse, just takes what it wants while on it's course.
Listen close, nature's talking, it just might mean the "Dead Man's Walking".
© 2000 April M. Crawford