Moon People

When others sleep I lie awake Waiting For night To become day. Rubbing The sun From my eyes Everything I Tried to forget Comes back Like an angry wave. Hearing about the hurricane And the neglect I went to New Orleans Barely knew the place Only what I heard Creoles and Mardi Gras The Big Easy and Good times A distant city singing Its own sad song From the South. Long days and Months later A fever came round From damp nights and bad food A public health doctor Looked at me With an innocence And worry I haven’t seen Since childhood. Restless One night I set out Towards the outskirts Of the city. Fires burned everywhere Violence Lay waiting In gaping holes Of empty houses And abandoned cars The spider web of Death Hovered above Waiting for its next victim I thought I saw the worst But I hadn’t. On a garbage strewn road Was an old woman Patiently Stirring some sort of gumbo In a beat up tin pot I approached her In the darkness We were Two solitary Figures on a dirt road The space between us No more than a foot From the fire The veins on the back of her hands Stood out Her face hidden in the flickering shadows “I’m noticing you You’re a stranger You don’t belong here.” Looking past me She asked, “Tell me mister If they put a man on the moon Can't they rescue people in a flood?’ I had no answer Tapping the spoon Against the side of the pot She spoke to no one in particular, “Must be We got to be people On the moon Before anyone can help us”. Behind us Shadows moved Heavy voices were heard. A sudden downpour came The rain turning The dirt road to mud The old woman shrugged and left I walked back to camp Leaving as lost As I came. The night Became a faint memory I slept forever Exhausted I opened my eyes To see wet clothes And muddy boots In the corner Of my room Then I knew The night Hadn’t been A dream after all.