Storm Surge Stories

Historic blizzard on the way. Milk, olive oil, chocolate
bars long gone from grocery shelves. Salt piles wait
in farms beside the turnpike.

Stay indoors. Don’t drive, and
if you do go out, don’t crowd the plow.
Batten down porch furniture. It will blow hard.

Tomato soup, grilled cheese, hot cocoa, a wee dram, charged phone, batteries. Last year, I bought two new shovels
for just such a day.

Our guides? There! On the screen! Matt. Victoria.
Josh. Todd. Rob. Jaisol. Juliana too! And Wren.
Wrapped in wool and Gortex, booted, goggled, hooded, then

Tossed up like rocks by the waves, drawn up to towering heights, have dropped onto the shoreline roads. TV’s
Storm Surge Central.

These bards are seabirds in the surf, pressed on all sides by gale-force winds. They plant yardsticks in the drifts, tell stories of distress and derring-do.

If we wait long enough, record-breaking seas subside, tides pull back, wind drops. The show is over, but stories stay, like flotsam in the sand.

About the Poem

Television coverage of the recent blizzard that targeted Boston inspired appreciation for the television reporters who hour after hour came up with observations, facts, and stories to keep those of us at home informed and entertained.

About the Author

Anne Wheelock lives and writes in Boston, Massachusetts.

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