Lake Effect
March 7 2008


White-outs come out of the blue.
A light sprinkle of snow
turns in a flash
horizontal, chaotic,
pelting the glass
enclosing you.
Squalls come as fast as they go
down here by the shore,
nothing in the weather report.
Except “lake effect may make things treacherous.”

You feel paralyzed
white knuckles frozen to the wheel;
blind curves in front,
and who knows what
bearing down behind you.
But beautiful, too,
like packed in cotton batten 10,000 feet up
suspended in dense white cloud.

She has always lived on the edge,
a wild lake
a quiet island.
She needed water, she said
to feel grounded.
She loves the rocky beach, pounded by waves,
and fog horns wailing,
and long late sunsets
when it’s calm.
“Drive carefully”, she said
when you used to visit,
wending your way
all the way down from home.
“Lake effect”, she said;
and that’s exactly how you remember her.