Descending Into The Storm Cellar
After lunch Uncle Milton slept in his armchair.
Aunt Lillian napped on the mohair sofa.
Grandma sent me to the storm cellar for spuds.
I lifted the cellar doors and descended
Into our lee against tornadoes.
It was a cool Hades with ceiling pipes
Leaking sleep onto the dirt floor;
Cobwebs choked me like sticky hairnets.
There was an odor of cement and bones.
Groping for potatoes, I clutched a dead bat.
It had stoned itself darting
Between the walls, searching for an exit
From a hell too dark even for the blind.
Grandma met me at the front porch.
In the sunlight I delivered the potatoes,
My face twisted by my visit to a
Catacomb that bred dead things
With white legs growing from their eyes.
I left Grandma standing at the sink,
Peeling evils from the underworld.