Oklahoma City

The serene mood
shattered in an instant
letting loose a maelstrom
of conflicting emotions
as the many concrete
stories peeled away
in a jarring release
of obliteration.

A massive quake
sent everything askew,
stacked and tilted, skittish
as the wind that blows a willow.
Bodies whirled like tumbleweed
in a cyclone, plummeting
to perish amidst a tangled
twisted maze of turmoil.

A gaping wound opened into
gray formations and shadowed depths,
while the percussion hurled
an undrafted army over the edge,
into a jagged, yawning maw
of an abyss in fractured pieces.
Apple red stains glistened like
huge rubies on the littered streets.

An acrid smell hung still
as a leaf on a windless afternoon,
while dazed and wedged victims, rigid
with doubts and fears, waited to be freed.
Injured babies wandered amidst the
wild hysteria trembling the streets.
A tow-headed baby
with dimples like parenthesis,
shuddered a soothing release.

A burly fireman
cuddles sorrow in his arms
while our hearts bat
the offensive image away,
then cling to it
to succor sorrow
while a bereft mother
searches futilely.

As tenacious heroes probe the fissures
and breach the unstable cliffs,
the storm razed building
flexes, stretches and snaps.
A seething, controlled, white-hot fury
combs, checks and scans the decimated debris,
as rescuers search through
the pall of gloom and doom descending.

A gloomy drizzle descends
with sleep as a thick blanketing fog.
Our hearts scud with an emotional vortex,
a somnolent haze,
playing havoc with anything
but an unrelenting vigil
wringing every vestige of hope
from the devastation.

Love, Jody

Wednesday, April 19, 1995
Little Baylee Alman
in the arms
of an Oklahoma City Fireman