friday, august 15

denim, flannel, wool, and polycotton blends

somewhere under them is a girl
who is in her way also a patchwork

she gives the squares of orange brown
blue gray green red and white a better
geometry than they have had in a long while

she hasn't noticed the envelope yet
about an inch from the hair that
falls out of the quilt where her face
must be buried

it will wait.

on my kitchen card table
the local paper has a headline about
the east coast going dark, fifty million people affected

someone is going to write a column,
an article, a blog entry, a scholarly treatise
on how the blackout showed them a community
they didn't know they had or created one
where before everyone was too distracted
by electronics and the
endless pull of their lives' everyday demands

people will talk about how they pulled together
it will be true but it will sound like something
you read months or years ago

this thing is as much a part of the process of disaster
as high winds, rising water, snow shovels
and unexpected darkness

i was in church once when the power went out
the organ stopped and suddenly you could hear voices
the white haired tyrant organist
played piano instead and the lights off
let us see by morning stormlight through the stained glass
so people sang.

p1k3 / 2003 / 8 / 15
tags: topics/poem