by Rochelle Jewel Shapiro
In the den, Eden on the trampoline,
curls bouncing, skirt flying over
her little belly. Rebecca, at the kitchen table,
doing her eight-year-old version
of Olde English voices for her plastic knights
and ladies that she moves about
a cardboard stage.
It’s been a day since the tornado,
the warning screech through the cell phone
their mother had left on the kitchen island
as she drove unknowingly toward the storm,
her only worry, the sippy cup that spilled
in the backseat. Yes, the sky
was a weird yellowish gray and birds
were flapping madcap, but tornados
only happen in the Midwest, don’t they?
How does the god of wind select
which of us to spin from the earth,
into the dark, roaring rings
of the hell-bound funnel?
The impatiens are upright today.
The plastic lady saves her knight.
Eden jumps on the trampoline.
Rochelle Jewel Shapiro’s novel, Miriam the Medium (Simon & Schuster) was nominated for the Harold U. Ribelow Award. Kaylee’s Ghost was finalist in the Indie 2013 Awards. Shapiro’s essays have appeared in NYT (Lives), Newsweek, and more. Her poems have appeared in Iowa Review, Moment, Atlanta Review. She’s a phone psychic who teaches writing at UCLA Extension. rochellejewelshapiro.com