Reality of Tornado Alley

Mon, 03/11/2019 - 13:49 -- Pansol

In California, the purest of the states.

I once lived in a city that thought of having tornadoes.

Pictures cast in the cafateria wall, pictures of tornadoes.

Within first glance, that fear haunts me.

Strong wind, twirling leaves, twirling litter, just to form a tornado.

But, this is California I speak of.

It's nowhere near Tornado Alley, towards the middle.

The middle of the United States.

I moved. To a better place.

That had no fear of tornadoes.

The news begs to differ.

State capital, a tornado occured.

Fear blasted higher, there's no escape.

Years later, the final move. It was even better.

Upon, I looked up tornado alley. It was a nice sight to see.

I'm not in it. I face no fear knowing it.

Knowing that, I have since then calmed.

I don't fear of strong wind, only if it's damaging to timber.

This poem is about: 
Me

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