Thundering

There was a man here once
She sighs fingering his cuffs and collars
Letting her tips bump along the curves and edges of his tools.
She looks at her sons,
Hoping this one will be just like his father
(the one using his chin to close his cell phone who from my angle looks as though to shoot himself). 
Wishing the other will remember him.
(the boy I think is playing a harmonica, but is only lighting a cigarette)
She looks at her daughter,
Praying she’ll tell her husband she loves him every day
Even when they get in fights
Even when they’re apart – still to say
I love you
To the open air…
 
But her daughter sees tornadoes in trees
Her eyes contract
A low, rumbling moan startles her
Smiling strangely
Rubbing the rain into her cheeks
Like skin cream.
I can tell she wants to be part of that
Dark, magnetic world
One that trickles by and never stops long enough
Just to entice her.