Power Outage Elegy
My daughter can’t understand
why, when I press the button,
the parking garage door doesn’t budge.
The car stuck. The park too far
for her small legs to walk. These things
happen, I say. It’s no one’s fault.
In the apartment courtyard, the tenants are gathered —
one complains he’s missing the Laker game,
one can’t charge her cell phone,
another's laptop is dead.
of course, isn’t the problem — we’re each unprepared
for such sudden loss, loss
that will last for the foreseeable future.
for our little disappointments.
Normally I might not pay attention
to sunlight pouring into the courtyard
but this afternoon, I do —
probably because it’s already nearly gone.
None of us mentions the night,
but I, for one, would like to
be expecting it, when
it comes.about the author