Against The Wind Poem by John F. McCullagh

Who can stand against the wind
That Tornado Ally blows?
What is within a people,
Who naught but hardship knows?
A force like an atomic bomb
Has visited again-
The great Plains own apocalypse
in the roaring of the wind

Moore is, more or less, destroyed.
No stone upon a stone.
Amidst the wreckage, children’s toys,
That none will claim to own.

I have witnessed as the fires burn
among the fallen walls.
as first responders sift through stones
in search of living souls.
A playground, where no children laugh,
Now a bleeding open sore..
Mothers, weeping for their children,
Because they are no more..