“A few moments ago the lake was a green satin scarf
with smooth furls for waves and a postage stamp park
for a border. Then the storm struck.
Wind unraveled the scarf to white shreds,
bent curbside saplings over, tore small branches
from trees and flung them onto the grass, while the rain
lashed tardy couples and sent them racing for cover,
drummed on the roofs of cars, boiled in the streets,
hissed against shopfront windows.
Then the storm was over.”
— “Ten Minutes in Skaneateles, N.Y.” by Mark Perlberg (1929-2008). First published in the journal december, then collected in Waiting for the Alchemist (2009)