Bump in the night
the power goes off
too much snow kicks us offline
an overload
I fumble thru the pitch black house
no lights no clock
no micro or coffee pot
even old reliable
the refrigerator light is off
the only thing that works is the faucet
we are captives of the power grid
we cannot do a thing without it
everything shuts down
the house gets colder and colder
no place to go
no place to write
I shiver in the dark
without even the warmth of
a poem.
Even now, in the heart of a great city, I keep candles just in case of
a power failure. Pity there's no fireplace and logs in today's "power supplied" so-called civilisation. Maybe I should invest in another camping stove too but there's always an alternative when it comes
to eating: one advantage of big city life. Your word picture reminds
me of the country living of my youth when we were so much closer to elemental living from day to day.
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Stephen Gospage
Tue 16th Feb 2021 17:19
This is a fine poem which captures a bad dream or a horrible reality. The feeling of helplessness is real.