Destroyed Cattle Pens, Texas
by Henry Cherry
The motel was named the Shamrock,
memorializing a fancier one owned by
the real-life guy James Dean played in Giant.
The dog pushed free of the truck, grateful to touch paw
to ground. My knuckles were white from
steadying the wheel as the wind hit the side of the Penske.
I walked over to get us some fast food. The sky dipped
and turned the color of a bruise. I looked out into the
wide open of the panhandle, and there it was.
Twenty, maybe thirty miles off. Funnel cloud sweeping
back up into itself. The dog looked up from the burger and
stared at the twister disappearing into a mousy horizon.