So the Snow
by Jeff Oaks
So the snow they said would fall didn’t.
When I woke at four there was none of that
strange light and sound that makes it confusing
to know the right time or date or place or self.
Although there was silence. Because everyone
was as scared as I was? I couldn’t tell.
Even the morning’s normal freight train was absent.
Even the idiots who run the intersection every morning
were somewhere else, reduced to one or two every hour
and even they were slowed down, so that the sound
coming up was not the busy close crossing of ocean waves
but just an occasional rush of breeze. The house kept ticking
when the furnace kicked off but that just added
to the sense that nothing had in fact happened.
When I got out of bed finally, it was just a dusting,
as we like to say. Another false alarm. How many others
are standing where I am, at windows all over town,
wondering what it is they hoped to be saved from?