Power Outage

Between rain storms,
the electricity goes out.
Then the batteried clock
snips time with ticks as even
as Grandma's stitches.

I sit in the tower room's
three-windowed luminescence,
watching each spread schefflera
palm glow gently, suspended
in amber moments.

The light is very important.

It is no loss: this electron tether, cut--
this waft into the lap of evening.