Wind?

Cumulonimbus, dark and grey
Scatters the sun's radiant day
A gale picks up, fast and proud
Toward the town, rumbling loud
Dirt and sticks lift into the sky
A swirling, twirling is driven by
Towards the town, full of life
A funnel cloud brim with strife
Over houses, shops, and such
Tornadoes never do leave much
Blistered land, and blighted lives
As, their hope, profoundly dies
I blink, a colored world flows back
Reality creeps softly onto it's track
Ponder and ponder all of the red
Perhaps, it all was in my head.