Although they are grown,
the children have remained.
The world outside our door
a new kind of ruin, not ready
for them yet. And it’s easier
to stand sentinel when they
are nearby, still within reach,
even if that’s an illusion.
You might notice a flickering
from this heart and it’s not
from a lack of fire or constancy.
It’s just that we’ve been without
power here since one of the latest
electrical storms rolled through.
I’m hooked up to a generator
which creates noise and smoke.
There isn’t a lot of fuel
and we had to make hard choices.
The food in the fridge and freezer
spoiled, but there are cans and an
opener, unruly plants in the garden.
No computers or fans,
of course. Just enough to keep
this relic of a muscle going.
It churns out enough wattage
for daily love and reassurance,
as well as a small reckoning
on the page, nothing more.
