Like a Palm in a Hurricane

Kathryn Jones

June 30, 2024

The wind screamed like the Furies 

coming to seek vengeance, 

murdering with a swirling sword,

devouring and regurgitating

pieces of roofs, walls, windows,

proclaiming that life will break you. 

Even trees gave up their roots

except for the palms that bent 

and bowed to the wind,

roots clinging to soil, refusing to break.  

Hiding in my closet, I silently screamed too,

plugging my ears against the shrieking sky

until silence landed with a thud

like the ebony tree on our roof.

I opened the door, peeked outside to see

walls crumbled, glass shattered, 

trees uprooted – except for the palm, 

beaten but still standing, showing me 

to bend the knee of my heart, bow, 

cling to life, and never, ever break. 

Kathryn Jones is a poet, journalist, and essayist whose work has been published in The New York Times, Texas Monthly, Texas Highways, and the Texas Observer. Her poetry has appeared in numerous literary journals and anthologies, including TexasPoetryAssignment.com, Unknotting the Line: The Poetry in Prose (Dos Gatos Press, 2023), Lone Star Poetry (Kallisto Gaia Press, 2023), and in her chapbook, An Orchid’s Guide to Life, published by Finishing Line Press. She was inducted into the Texas Institute of Letters in 2016 and lives on a ranch near Glen Rose, Texas.