A Religious Experience
       

The third hurricane of my life turned out to be only
a tropical storm—it got what they call downgraded.
I knew it would be. I'd gone out walking in it, even
before it dropped in the ratings. I loved being inside
the storm: horizontal wind-rain is air full of water
standing up, like the Red Sea in the big movie. I was
a visitor then, out of season, a tourist in the Keys
and in my mind. I saw drink umbrellas turn inside
out like the ones on the street. The wind was a wall.

In my rented room—illegal, jerry-built behind a pool,
disguised as a yellow cabana—the power shocked out.
I hated the noise of the A/C, so I took that thick quiet
as a blessing, and lay down to dry. Then the frogs came.
Or maybe they'd come earlier in silence, croaking only
when the storm sky cleared to perfect dark. Thousands
of frogs, all night long. I couldn't sleep, until I couldn't
not sleep. I woke hours later, to silence. No frogs.
Gone, as if Moses had said, Thanks. You can stop now.

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Copyright © 2015 Judith Arcana All rights reserved
from Parcel
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission