Ames, Iowa, November 12, 2005

Tornado
by Leo Dangel

Aunt Cordelia was a tough old lady.
We could hardly believe
she was ever a little girl.
She told this story:

We stood on the porch and watched
the gray finger come down from clouds
in the west and dirt swirling up. Mama said, "It's over at Milo's place."
"No," Papa said, "it's farther south."
My little sister knew
that Mama and Papa were afraid.
Papa opened the outside cellar door
and herded us in. We stood crowded
on the top steps, watching that thing
in the west. Papa wasn't one to touch
us often, but now his hands hopped
like sparrows from one shoulder
to the next, making sure
we were all there. Even smarty pants
Benny kept his mouth shut.
The tail snaked out and swung around
to the south. Papa became his old self.
The next day, we piled in the car
to go see how bad the Knutson place
was wrecked. Papa said they were lucky
and all got into the cellar.
Benny said, "Pooh, if I got caught
outside in a tornado, I would just grab
a hold around a tree."
Papa smiled, but his face was fierce
and helpless, too.

We turned into Knutson's driveway
and saw big trees broken, twisted, and torn
out by the roots. Papa said, "Which tree
would you have hung on to?"