Blizzard Comfort Canners of water drawn, fresh batteries at hand, wood stacks tall as the starving stoves and you. Power, they say, might fail in which case here, aglow, our woolen blanket, railroad wicks, and fire. Out in the snow-mounded henhouse feathers flicker in the dark, steaming corn mash their reward.

Return to the front page of this issue:   Amaze   Vol. 6, No. 1   Go to the Poets & Authors page for the poet's biographical sketch and email link. All poems are copyright © 2008 by their respective authors.