The Ice Storm Of ‘91
Morning meditation to the soft tapping of sleet.
Snowfall in the night birthed a new world.
My partner is asleep. A wet-footed kitten
stalks the living room, leaving tracks.
I’m carried back to March 1991:
stepping onto the porch in a crystalline world,
the gunshots of snapping branches
echoing through the woods.
The electricity was out all over upstate New York.
We heated with wood, but no power meant
no water from our well. Dad was away,
so Mom and Gretchen and I
piled into the Escort to fill up water jugs
at the tiny volunteer fire department.
The hilly drive was a nightmare
of slipping and skidding and sliding.
For decades after the scars of the storm
were visible in the area;
whole swathes of felled trees,
the clearings where they once stood.
And for several days, everything stopped:
industry, education, commerce,
all subservient to ice.
/ / /
6 January 2025
Charlottesville VA
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