Storm Warning

   by Larry Turner

I survived it, 
if you call this surviving. 

I didn’t see the signs of its approach. 
The days-long chill 
merely drove me to my den. 
I ignored
the sound of falling drops.

When I heard 
moaning, 
then cacophony,
then the din of flying objects,
I should have emerged to face it, 
but remained within my shelter. 

Afterwards,
silence. 

I sit amid the devastation 
wondering if anything can be rebuilt.