January 21, 2012

Storm Sonnet
Power abandons us just before lunch.
We’re consigned to cold kidney bean salad
with a few raw onions tossed in for crunch.
The scant meal leaves us both looking pallid.
I hunt down candles; the hour grows late.
God, but greasy, hot Chinese food sounds nice.
No deliveries now, at any rate,
Because the driveway’s a thin sheet of ice.
We ponder our choices, hemmed in like rats,
And end up on the back porch, in winter gloves,
Down puffy jackets and warm wooly hats,
Cooking our dinner on the camping stove.
We read by candlelight, gentle and clear
And fall asleep in our long underwear.
 © Jessica Minier Mabe
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