serving notice yet again

Posted by on October 31, 2012



The Edge of the Hurricane

by Amy Clampitt

Wheeling, the careening
winds arrive with lariats
and tambourines of rain.
Torn-to-pieces, mud-dark
flounces of Caribbean

cumulus keep passing,
keep passing.    By afternoon
rinsed transparencies begin
to open overhead, Mediterranean
windowpanes of clearness

crossed by young gusts’
vaporous fripperies, liquid
footprints flying, lacewing
leaf-shade brightening
and fading. Sibling

gales stand up on point
in twirling fouettes
of debris. The day ends
bright, cloud-wardrobe
packed away. Nightfall

hangs up a single moon
bleached white as laundry,
serving notice yet again how
levity can also trample,
drench, wring and mangle.

* * *

Today is Halloween and we have had nothing but appropriately autumnal weather all week long– sunny, crisp, and cool. I took the photo of the bright blue sky with white clouds at Forest Park on Sunday. The other side of the diptych is an image of the front door of what was our apartment in DC. I have been watching updates from east coast friends for the last few days. Everyone I know in DC, New York, and New England was not harmed– only inconvenienced– by Hurricane Sandy.

I am adjusting to huge things once again, which is why this post is coming very late– right before I will whisk my girls to the neighborhood of a school friend for trick-or-treating. And I am going to be late to that too.

I started a new part-time job! It’s hard to explain. It seemed to fall into my lap from the sky– the blue kind of sky with white cumulus clouds. So much is going on; life is a swirl.

There is no way to describe all of this today. For today: a poem that also fell into my lap about a hurricane. I found it within seconds of looking (but maybe subconsciously I remembered that Amy Clampitt could be counted on for a poem about a hurricane and all manner of weather forecasts).

Thanks for understanding, Happy Halloween, and take care, northeastern friends.

  1. A M B E R
    November 1, 2012

    This is a great poem. And I think this job of yours will be very good for you and your family!

    Things are strange here. You don't realize how much you depend on things like the Postal Service, roads, subways, grocery stores until they are closed. We still haven't had mail delivered since last week. There is no bread at any of the local grocery stores–people have been baking it at home and selling it out of their apartments. The trains began running on limited routes today, but not all the way up to our neighborhood. Charles had to walk 25 blocks this morning to catch the subway to work. But we are so lucky, really. And the laundry on the corner opened today for the first time since the storm, so I was able to send my huge pile of laundry out! Now that makes me feel lucky in so many ways.

    Sorry to fill your comments section with a little essay about my life.


  2. Julia
    November 1, 2012

    No way– your comment is much more interesting than my post. I think everyone wants a window into what things are really like in NY right now. I love the detail about the bread.

  3. Mickey
    November 1, 2012

    Let us know about the job!!!