Just before Christmas, our small town in Southern Vermont was the center of a magical and destructive ice storm leaving us without power for seven days.
By the sixth day, I hit ROCK bottom and packed up my family up for a hotel–twenty minutes away. There we reveled in electric lighting, showers–and most of all–flushing toilets. This poem was written in a moment of delirium when we arrived back at our home the following day.
And Then There Was Light
And on the seventh day we rose
from the comfort of the HOLIDAY Inn
and climbed back to the heights of Marlboro
And there at the mouth of our road
we came upon men of GOOD will,
wearing hard hats beneath BRIGHT trucks.
And our mouths fell silent
of the PRAISE we had intended to spread
upon this long-awaited sight
And they hung there open
as we ascended MacArthur
SEEKING at each crossing
the familiar toppled tree or strewn line
only to discover…
NONE!
And with great ANTICIPATION,
we turned up our drive,
scanning our home
for any SIGN,
And stepping into our mudroom
giddily flipped the switch,
only to find…
NOTHING!
But just as we wearily lifted our bags
up the dark and dirtied stairs,
an unusual sound was heard.
And we looked at each other
concerned
And then turned toward the stove to SEE
great NUMBERS flashing
and exclaimed in bewildered WONDER
“THE POWER IS ON!
THE POWER IS ON!”
And without flushing toilets
or filling refrigerators
or washing mounds of dishes,
We flew to the porch
with pots and pans
to send out our JOYFUL wishes.
We whistled and whooped
and rang out GREAT JOY
To the gentlemen of CVPS
and all other electric crews NATIONS.
Who knew that a week before Christmas
could bring such GLEE
as we turned on the carols
and welcomed
each LIGHT
on the tree.
To read Kelly’s posts about the Ice Storm of 2008, before the glee, click the links below:
This Vermont Life 