Verses after a Storm

I woke on Tuesday with a poem in my head. It was the morning after Hurricane Sandy made landfall, and I was relieved to discover that I had been spared the worst of the storm. The power was on, water was flowing, and both my partner and I were safe in our home. I know that many others were much less fortunate, and that, as I write this, too many are still lacking basic necessities. For them, returning to normal shall take longer. I am thankful for my good luck, and offer these verses from my perspective:

The Sensation of Subtle Sounds

I awake to a variety of subtle sounds:

A hammer tapping,

Tires gliding over damp streets,

While footfalls trod upon the sidewalk,

And from some nearby, though uncertain location,

Soft organ music surfaces.

Eventually, the more obtrusive voice of a leaf blower joins the mix

Along the front walk,

Another sign of moving on,

A partial return, at least, to a routine of daily life.

But most reassuring

(As it has been throughout the storm)

Is the sensation of your warm body

Wrapped tightly in my loving embrace . . . 

*      *     *

Best wishes to all . .  .

photo by creighton blinn, all rights reserved