Weather War

Kit Johnston is a freelance science and medical health policy and research writer and editor who lives in an old farmhouse in Piedmont VA overlooking the eastern Blue Ridge Mountains. She has been writing poetry for many years but has rarely submitted for publication (something we at vox poetica would like to see change). To learn more about her visit her web site (of if you need a getaway check out this one ... you might have to fight me for it). So what better time is there to read a poem about a blizzard than in the 90+ degree days of summer? The images in this will make you feel chilled. But it's the imagery in the last four lines that makes the poem for me.

Weather War
By Kit Johnston

The flag is at full mast straight out
—that's gale force—
And I'm in it.
I can feel this old hotel
—rocking, listing—
And I wonder
Will it hold?
100 or more
—trapped here—
By the blizzard of the century.
It feels endless.
Night blurs into day
and day into night, again.
From six floors up
I part curtains
To watch small figures
Navigate
Then disappear.
Will they survive?
Will we?
In here,
—in this shell—
I feel as safe as
Someone trapped by war.

 

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