In Wonder of Thunder
Low rumbles that nibble
At the very edge
Of hearing.
I wonder if this is how
Elephants talk?
All the way from the plains
And forests of Africa
To the fairgrounds
Alongside the train tracks
Across from the lumberyard?
Children’s faces pressed
Against the screen,
Seeking warning flashes
In the tossing breezes
and branches just outside.
Hatchwork impressions on
Flushed cheeks
Affirm the fragile barrier holds.
Ancient conflicts resolved,
Chaos held at safe remit
Beyond the bedroom walls.
One thousand, two thousand,
Three thousand, four
We knew that there was nothing more
To tracking a storm.
A mile per second
Childhood’s certainty that
Confounds dry science’s
Assertion that if you
Can hear it, fear it.
If you can see it, flee it.
Where, pray tell,
Lies the exultation in that?
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