trunks lit by lightning
trees drunk on rain, their roots loose
in saturated earth
rain falls from the canopy
long after the storm moves on

awake when the house goes down
he knows the power is out
drunk on sorrow
reddened eyes aching
naked and powerless
he pulls on yesterday’s clothes

air still thick with words
he finds a box of matches
dusty jugs of water
lights the gas burner
from dim memory retrieves
her wooden coffee grinder

grinding coffee gears him
to an old slow rhythm
his heart caught off guard
turning backwards in time
the scent of her grows
with every turn of the crank

a man with a steaming mug
in a pool of pale morning light
he wills himself into a world
familiar and dangerous
stares in silence at a small knot of life
green frog on rusty leaf

hauling himself up the road
away from the wreckage
he nods to neighbors
not yet trusting speech
hears what they’ve heard
anybody’s guess how long