The Storm of ‘98
by Joseph Veronneau
The framed picture shows
the falling daylight,
the blizzard reminded the season
of its control over human priorities.
We stayed still inside,
stared out the picture window
with a quiet concern in the pits
of our stomachs.
The oak across the street
continued its demise,
branches looped down
into the shape of frozen bananas,
holding on for their lives.
Someone would slide by
and pull an icicle or two,
and the branches came crashing,
resembling the sound of juice glasses
escaping from slick-fingered youth.
Two weeks spent
rolled into our hidden slumbers
of sleeping bags and knit blankets,
eating canned food,
and awaiting a harsher sun
to come over the horizon.
April 4th, 2005 at 7:15 pm
Why was your poem bumped from the homepage so quickly?
April 4th, 2005 at 7:29 pm
It wasn’t done deliberately! - probably because we added a load more works which pushed it off the “latest additions” section - maybe I will have to make some changes to the way this works.
Rob
Have your say - leave a comment