A sight I hope I never see again
a massive black funnel cloud
on a path of destruction
At first unable to distinguish its direction
fearing that it was coming right at us
Huddling in our basement wondering
what would be left when the storm passed
Relieved to find our house still intact
despite the cold and darkness
Grateful to have survived the fury
of the F-4 monster
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem