when the power went out,
adrenaline came on.
With purpose I pointed
the beam of the flashlight
and tiptoed to the basement.
No, it was not overloaded circuits.
I knew that.
The boom and flash that tore holes in the sky
The deafening sheets of rain
That's what kept me from writing
to you all.
In daylight, much later
"Hello, do you have power?"
from everyone I met.
And that sense of envy when I would overhear
"Oh yes, the lights just flickered a bit."
And the sense of dread:
what would I find when I returned home?
Slimy petrie dish of a refrigerator?
Heat and the still air, a stifling blanket,
reminder of my powerlessness?
That is why I did not write