Today's poem is The Gusts Reached 60mph by Michelle Menting. It is read by Gibson Fay-LeBlanc.
The Gusts Reached 60mph
and then the power went out. Leaving us
in a darkness resembling our lives, the pitch
of your voice when it drives to cut, to fissure
a wound as deep as the temper that craves
to carve it. There is rain in December
in Maine, a downpour of confusion
as much spectacle as menace. We kept
waiting: for the lights to flicker,
for the hum of white noise to fade,
for that power to finally go out.
I no longer set aside candles. The matches
stay in the drawer. I'm used to these storms.
I know how to prepare, but I'm tired.
This one too will pass. The sun will return,
heating too hot a ground that should be
dormant. Frozen. Listen, I know now: night
is a shield of darkness that I've learned
to rest with. To hide within its corners.
To wait. Then walk in the thick mud
of another season's morning.
Music provided by Storyblocks and Chris Moore.