Screaming sirens silence the silence

salient surveyors

survivors spinning still

but stillness isn’t comfort

when it’s the center of the vortex

one of

natures erasers of the permanence of man

Run!

Hold her close and  R U N !

You waited a bit too long Honey, best get in here quick!

no need for the crying. We know

you’re the new girl here

It was a hard decision, the babe was only two, in months and not a minute more.

Oklahoma, home-a the tilt-a-whirl flying circus death defying deity dependent

Bible-school and bible-belt

spare the rod spoil the bastard

alone in the storm with a baby in your arms

Run!

skirt ripped off

the trailer

and no one to trust at all.

Run!

you can make it. Don’t drop the baby. Don’t squish the baby. Don’t lose the baby.

Baby. Baby! Babeeee  mine.

Eight by eight and six foot under, a bare bulb burning holes in the too dark darkness as it swings with the surges of the wind throwing shadows on the faces of the mass of huddled mass. Bulk of strangers.  Come on down. You’re out of time. Hand the baby over.

The wind is screaming, the baby shrieking. You’re out of time. Sweaty hands around you, a ragdoll in their arms.

The door slams shut above you, the lock is slid in place.

Time passes without measure.

You cannot see a face.