storms

Up to the city siren.
Out of bed quick
to survey the situation.
As if there’s
anything
I can do
to save us.

Wind drives
waves of rain.
Trees and wires sway.
Lawn chairs tumble.
Bird feeders swing.
A garbage can rolls
down the street.

In the basement,
we wait.
I touch the wide beams
that hold us every day.
Rough edges rebuild
my confidence.
This hundred-year-old house
has weathered plenty.
It will outlast me.
Maybe even
the new builds.

The siren stops.
We climb upstairs.
My wife cracks eggs.
The kids pour Lucky Charms.

I step onto the porch.
Hair rises.
Ears drink sound.
Eyes scan the sky.

Hoping
for more.

~ K.J.