Aubade Before Storm 

Leah Silvieus


Beaufort, N.C.

The momentary calm having contained all that was and was
going to be, gust in breeze, the swell tide-buried beyond the outer banks –

in the fescue, innocent as it appeared – the darkening

turn. Had we not been warned? We imagine voices calling to us, light
                                              from the fishing boats, tiding fair weather

and believe no harm. The sun addressed us through the window –
                   quiet, solemn child – I tried to name you – memory is not a keeping

but a forgiving, the thresh and burn
of what we cannot salvage – and song is merely silence which 

pierces some relentless
resonance: never is a sky

more beautiful than when ready to surrender its fury.

Did no one tell us? We cannot hold
                the drenched volume   of our world –