AMP. Always Electric.

Volume 1, No. 1

Signs and Wonders

Days after my mother dies, the cable box turns on, flashing channel and times
I take as sign: 2:37 becomes 57, my age; channel 7, number of completion
according to Bible; 11, balance and teamwork.

Orange digits in wee hours unnerve my husband and me.

I speak to my shaman girlfriend, who says things can be done
to help people on their way. Next night, a transformer’s pop!
Neighbors’ audible Uh-oh as lamps and screens fade.

Flames smoke the yard across the street; buried wires ignite.

From my window bench, I watch firemen in yellow and black
whose flashlights catch my face behind blinds.
Like Moses I ask, How can this be?

Could her rage take down a block?

She broke the ceramic plant basket the funeral home returned;
as my car turned, it tipped and cracked. Most of my life I tried to get
away from her and now, indignant, I tell my friend,

My mother is gone; no message or dream.

Even Dad, uninvited, invades unconscious hours.
Sleepless, I ask, Where are you? That night,
the box glows again, the number 2.

Ann Cefola

Ann Cefola is the author of Face Painting in the Dark (Dos Madres Press, 2014); St. Agnes, Pink-Slipped (Kattywompus Press, 2011), Sugaring (Dancing Girl Press, 2007), and the translation Hence this cradle (Seismicity Editions, 2007). For more information, see www.anncefola.com and www.annogram.blogspot.com.