Aftermath

Storm: a hurricane called Matthew,
rain, fierce wind, a surge, boats ashore,
no longer buoyed by water but
lying on their sides, white bellies
posing sans dignity.  Power
lines a miasma of tangle,
highway signs strewn on off-ramps,
yards, throughout flooded parking lots.
Debris...the storm litter composed
of torn palm trees, shingles, Earth
itself--sod scooped as if Matthew
wielded myriad metal shovels
among grassy easements and lush lawns.

An invasion, bits and pieces
of so many things everywhere,
as if the land were inverted,
and shaken to dislodge neatness.
Roofs sheared and splintered,
houses a pathetic vision,
(like pummeled by a wrecking ball),
numerous, temporary new
lakes, never to be named.
Wandering water warrior
who eyed landfall, fed on the main.
Destroyer...helter-skelter storm;
the sting of flying rock and stone.

The war is over--the heeling
begins, albeit it long and slow.


28 Lines
Writer’s Cramp Winner
10-8-16