Fragments of refrigerator, sheet
rock, canceled checks. Mattress
sizzling like a lit box
of sparklers over hot
power line.  Eight confirmed
on Peach Valley Road.

Dot & Jimmy
in the storm shelter
curled together
like a braided wick. Blood

dripping like chocolate down Joy
Sipley’s neck. Six horses loose on Gum
Springs Road. Flattened
pickups on the highway tossed
like discarded juice boxes. With ballpoint

I scrawl frantically
in my skinny reporter’s
notebook.  F-4
170 mph. Still no first
responders. A mini-van
gnarled in a birch. Sanctuary
at First Presbyterian vanishes
to rubble, children’s wing
left standing. Down
Bledsoe Creek the torso

of a broken doll slides away.