![]() |
I wrote this shortly after Hurricane Katrina , I hope you can feel its emotion. |
| The music of man is silent. The storm from the sea calmly twirls to shore Like a gear of God’s great clock. History and hierarchy vanish; Class and culture recede into shadows. A community built upon layers of water Drowns on its own roots. Man fights on. The Huns of the city pillage. The storm has rolled north, But the hoard rolls like thunder: Preying on the defenseless, Feasting on pain. The saints of the city save the survivors As dead bodies float through the streets. Humanity fights on. The hum of life returns Flotsam and jetsam salvaged Homes purged of the water. Memories of borrowed time recalled Lives remembered, reassembled The citizens bury their memories Of Nature’s magnificence and fury New Orleans fights on. |