Hurricane Season
The end of summer days fade
out rather suddenly, but are no less relentless
in their swift ushering, and uncontrollable
tangents.
The rain doesn’t even listen,
pounding pavements, pushing leaves out
of the way, telling them it’s not their season
just yet.
I contemplate too much, as I do, mind drifts
to aftershocks of a storm, far away, watching
through vacant windows of soulless homes taken
too soon.
Then I remember the man with the giant
church, and wonder if he’s found Jesus, and
opened up his 52,000 seats to the public for
needed shelter.
Partly thinking that it’s better off
if he doesn’t, and gets exposed for the charlatan
he is, with hair that’s far prettier
than mine.
Then I think of those poor souls in New Orleans,
whose pockets have been empty and waterlogged
for far too long, and yet have more grit,
and spunk than most.
Is it hardship that changes us wholly…or is it
realizing that we’re really all in the same boat,
hanging off the edge, waiting for the right place
to get off…
Or keep paddling.
Very glad that Hurricane Harvey has finally been downgraded and moved away, but Houston will have a long and hard time ahead to rebuild.
