Silent Chaos

Families surge into the already swarming streets as the festival begins
While the men carry beer-filled coolers in preparation for the night’s events.
People stand pressed against each other in a thrilling jumble of limbs;
Their breath and sweat mingle sweetly.
It’s hard to breathe.
Joyful screams echo in crowded alleyways,
And laughter can be heard from every dark corner.
A small, quick hand plucks two plump crawfish from a grill on the sidewalk
As the familiar aroma of supreme Cajun cooking floats leisurely on the air –
The grill-chef is having too much fun to notice.
Loud, soothing jazz music blankets the town,
Filling countless ears with its peaceful vibrations.
Strings of rainbow-colored beads fly haphazardly in every direction,
Flung in excitement by cheerful party-goers.

When the storm clouds clear
And the pounding rain stops its assault,
The townspeople begin to emerge,
Timidly,
From the faux safety of their homes.
The men carry precious jugs of clean water,
Keeping them pressed tight to their sides.
Fog and smoke cloud the atmosphere –
It’s hard to breathe.
The only sounds made are the screams of survivors
As they realize their fates,
And laughter is heard from no dark corner.
A small, filthy hand grabs a stale loaf of bread from the counter of a deserted market,
But a man with a gun takes aim,
And the loaf falls solemnly to the ground.
No longer does the smell of Cajun food saturate the air;
The only odor remaining is that of bodies decaying in once-bustling streets.
This eerie scene is burned into countless memories,
Never forgotten.
The Mardi Gras beads imbedded in mud by a soldier’s boot print
Serve as a testament to the horror,
A single, ironic, overlooked testament.

The only hope given to these ravaged people
Is a silent message scribbled by Anonymous on a church wall:
“The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.”