Blog Index
The journal that this archive was targeting has been deleted. Please update your configuration.
Navigation
Thursday
Mar022017

DERECHO

 by Lydia Moyer

 

I remember the sound of generators running

The faucet dry

The blackest night

sweat-tangled sheets

camping on pillow ground

I read with a headlamp on.

 

I remember the sound of the wind climbing the hollow

before the trees began to sway

 

I packed for one day and stayed for five

Living off borrowed energy

I remember your summer kitchen

(a toaster in the hallway)

The trap-trapping of the air conditioner

How it drowned out the birds

I remember you coming back with a bike

That couldn’t hold its gear

 

And I remember going home

jumping into the pond still dressed

riding damp in the back of a pickup

the fireflies like tiny beacons

And the hum of the refrigerator

when the electricity came back on.

 

EmailEmail Article to Friend

Reader Comments

There are no comments for this journal entry. To create a new comment, use the form below.

PostPost a New Comment

Enter your information below to add a new comment.

My response is on my own website »
Author Email (optional):
Author URL (optional):
Post:
 
Some HTML allowed: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <code> <em> <i> <strike> <strong>