The Calm After the Second Storm
The dark laid down its precedent
on a Tuesday night.
It allowed me to fill the oil lanterns
and finish knitting a project
that was frosted with dust.
We had light for fifteen hours
before the East wind whipped the tree tops
for a second time in a week.
How can one sleep when the roof
is, for certain, getting ripped off?
I've been watching the two tallest pines
at the crest of our mountain.
One has been dying, for years
its barren body naked to the
elements.
I was certain that last night
it would meet its end
and I would wake to see its
strong, lush, green partner standing solo.
But when the grey January skies lifted
I saw only the withered bones
of the dead pine standing alone---
not willing, yet, to send its body
back to earth.
