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Two Poems
by Bonnie Bruton Horton


          The wind whips the rain
          Horizontally across my yard.
          A sheet of white plastic
          Catches on a bush
          Transforming it into a
          Halloween monster.

          My dog stands at the open door
          And refuses to go outside.
          Smart dog.

          I drag him out by the collar.
          He refuses to perform
          He runs between my legs
          Knocking me into a puddle
          Of shockingly cold water
          Where I rapidly lose my cool.

          Drenched, I open the door.
          He runs in obediently,
          Without my even asking.

          He shakes water all over
          The rug, the courch, the floor,
          And, of course, me.
          When he is comfortably dry,
          He gives me a sideways look.

          And with amazing dignity,
          He walks over to the chair
          In front of the fire –

          And lifts his leg.


          Sirens – thunder-wind-confusion;
          People become very quiet, waiting.
          The classroom is very peaceful;
          Something terrible is happening.

          We march downstairs
          In a mannerly fashion.
          Someone yells: Tornado –
          Hit the floor.

          Crying, shrieking, running
          Compound the chaos.
          Someone is tackled roughly
          Before he gets to the glass doors.

          Sudden blackout, boards splintering,
          Windows shattering,
          Pictures standing out from walls
          Contribute to the confusion.

          On the evening news,
          The young reporter in his new trench coat
          Enthusiastically interviews stunned people
          Who are standing where their homes used to be.

          He coaxes gruesome details out of families
          Who have lost their homes, cars,
          Maybe even loved ones
          As he pursues his career.

          Finally, he makes dire predictions
          Of more fierce weather on the way.
          Then, he turns to the camera crew
          And says elatedly, “That’s a wrap.”

    Bonnie Bruton Horton is an English professor at Delta State University in Cleveland, Mississippi. She is the proud grandmother of 4 gorgeous granddaughters.

To read more of Bonnie's poetry, click here: POEMS

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