Wednesday, September 17, 2008

After Ike

Lord, that storm was vicious. Left a swath
of damage halfway up the heart of North
America, as if a paintbrush full
of red paint swiped along the Mississippi
drowning bottom-lands and ferry towns.
Just a swipe at Nola, this time—lucky
Louisiana folks gave thanks and hunkered
down to ride it out. But Galveston...

it's like a 'dozer went through, end to end.
Where are they now, evacuees like birds
storm-scattered clear across the continent?
Their eggshell-shattered houses whisper, echo
dying wisps of hurricane-force winds:
The storm has passed. Come home. Come home. Come home.

Collection available! Knocking from Inside


SweetTalking Guy.. said...

This is good! And so topical..

tumblewords said...

Oh, yes. Spot on!

Linda Jacobs said...

Oh, I like this! You really captured the horror!

Stan Ski said...

forced evacuation, curfew; sounds sad that it has to be this way.

Ruth said...

"Eggshell-shattered houses" - this is wonderful.

Annie said...

And thank God they are on their way home now. My sister lives 90 miles north of Houston. They got quite a smack themselves too.