Will this be it? Is this it?

Sun-ripened tea quivers on the porch,
Threatening to fall.
The red radio blurts out screeching tones
Alert alert alert
This is NOT a test, not a test
Of the emergency broadcast system.
Grab the dog, grab the blanket, grab the radio.
Down to the dank, bare basement floor.
Watch the angry dreads of rain lash against our only lookout.
Wait for the grinding, sucking, howling.
How will it sound, how will it feel
When the giant funnel gulps down your house and burps it back up.
Memory: childhood, Sunday school.
Assignment: draw what scares you the most, so
Pencil in hand, I furiously scribbled layered spirals,
Converging into a black dot.
Black dot no longer a dot, no longer safe on white paper,
Black dot two counties away, the radio hollers.
Will this be it? Is this it?
Now the radio informs, tension released,
The threat has dissolved
Like sugar in iced tea.