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Poem



this world, connected by signals
cell phones, towers impregnated by vibrations
mild colors, flames rising from the hopes
hues stolen by the edges of a heart,
who hears the wind in the trees, the struggle
the need of raindrops, poignant 
stroking the last of the moments before
Helene spoke her war with creation
a war that left time off its foundation – 
	peace, where have you blown to? 
		are you still in the shadows, remembering
time, before the furious waters, the melting
of a night, a trembling torrent of yesterday’s 
drizzling past the laurels, the pines
as trees uprooted, 
the wounds of the earth, purged
dirt vomiting up its dinner, the souls
of a quiet September, when hope suffered
and the choice between living and dying meant starving
for the peace that was before
she stomped through the silence, delighting
in leaving a trail of despair, a haunting
on the rivers, on the souls
of a land so shattered and spoiled,
a land that would never again truly know
the serenity of September’s lulling,
a breeze so bashful and blowing away
the memories of a hurricane’s infuriating claim,
	cell phones? Silenced by the leftover shame,
wondering who is to blame – who do we blame?
for this struggle that left us feeling insane…
	oh, how I wonder – will we ever be the same???

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