We have lived here. We live here. We are
all along watching for storms in Kansas.
It’s a legacy. I was here. I am here. My memory

all along in Kansas from a window
as hail fell. Don’t cry, shouted my father.
But my oldest son says water contains

hydrogen, oxygen, in a raindrop all along.
Our sons can safely say. I missed out
on such roaming. I read a waterfall

of facebook posts for blogs about
memory hacks and approaching weather.
A post from years ago, our son said, ghosts

live in ghost towns. I say, come along,
let’s play in the basement as outside
the tornado siren begins its song.