us in suspense, six hours
with no defence against a
rancid dullness creeping like
a mold upon a countenance
incensed; eight outrageous
outages we’ve counted in
these past three days. Sure
the wind has played its part
impenitent with ease, tearing
limbs from trees, breaching
lines and causing discontent –
but eight times the power
went out when wind had
ceased to shrill about our
ears and eaves. We ask you
where is happenstance in
that? The theory we prescribe
is power supply as credibility
in need of Nature’s enigmatic
smile, and when describing
accidents, abide instead the
greater good a weak excuse
at mercy of efficiencies the
knowing breeze derides.
© 23 August 2007, I.D. Carswell
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