Almost Canadian

Sirens, a chainsaw, flashes of light and low rumbling thunder, soft rain sounds for hard rain because we’re on the bottom floor and it hits the others first. Soft baby breathing cuddled in my arms, cozy and not at all perturbed by the twister that just passed. Repeated text notifications because I can’t stop reaching out even though I should save the charge on my phone until the power comes back. Slow silence returning and we assess the damage.