The Iceman Cometh
We have all been surviving he effects of an ice storm. cold temperatures, and a snowstorm which came almost two weeks ago. I was without power for twelve days. Luckily I got trapped at Kelley Ridge so that I could keep the woodstove going. This insured that my pipes would not freeze. Jim B., Michele, and Deb kept me supplied with wood. I was able to get out after 4 days and get a shower. Beth sent lentil soup and bread. I’ll tell more about my adventures in the days to come, but I thought this poem, and these pictures might be a good way to start.
Bright Sun after Heavy Snow
by Jane Kenyon
A ledge of ice slides from the eaves,
piercing the crusted drift. Astonishing
how even a little violence
eases the mind.
In this extreme state of light
everything seems flawed: the streaked
pane, the forced bulbs on the sill
that refuse to bloom…A wad of dust
rolls like a desert weed
over the drafty floor.
Again I recall a neighbor’s
small affront — it rises in my mind
like the huge banks of snow along the road:
the plow, passing up and down all day,
pushes them higher and higher…
The shadow of smoke rising from the chimney
moves abruptly over the yard.
The clothesline rises in the wind. One
wooden pin is left, solitary as a finger;
it, too, rises and falls.
“Bright Sun after Heavy Snow” by Jane Kenyon, from The Boat of Quiet Hours. © Graywolf Press, 1986.
