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Column 118

Alberto

Intro by Ted Kooser
07.04.2007

Our species has devel­oped mon­strous weapons that can kill not only all of us but every­thing else on the plan­et, yet when the wind ris­es we run for cov­er, as we have done for as long as we’ve been on this earth. Here’s hop­ing we nev­er have the skill or arro­gance to con­quer the weath­er. And weath­er sto­ries? We tell them in the same way our ances­tors relat­ed encoun­ters with fear­some drag­ons. This poem by Min­neso­ta poet War­ren Woess­ner hon­ors the tra­di­tion by shar­ing an expe­ri­ence with a hurricane. 

Alberto

When the wind clipped
the whitecaps, and the flags
came down before they shredded,
we knew it was no nor’easter.
The Blue Nose ferry stayed
on course, west out of Yarmouth,
while 100 miles of fog
on the Bay blew away.

The Captain let us stand
on the starboard bridge
and scan a jagged range.
Shearwaters skimmed the peaks
while storm petrels hunted valleys
that slowly filled with gold.
Alberto blew out in the Atlantic.
We came back to earth
that for days might tip and sway
and cast us back to sea.

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Disclaimer

We do not accept unsolicited submissions

We do not accept unsolicited submissions. American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright © 1998 by Warren Woessner, whose book of poetry, "Clear All the Rest of the Way" is forthcoming from The Backwaters Press. Reprinted from "Iris Rising," BkMk Press of UMKC, 1998, with permission of the author. Introduction copyright © 2024 by The Poetry Foundation.