Stormy Day

 It is literally a stormy day today so I thought I would post this poem about a figurative one.

Stormy Day

The front
moves in,
bringing
not a chill
but a
bleakness.
The clouds
gather
and darken.
Anguish
thunders
and the
downpour
begins.
Reality
sets in.
You are
gone.

Something in Their Eyes

Something in Their Eyes

There was something
in the eyes
of those who were
trying to rescue them.
They had already seen:
fire and smoke
ignited by heated rhetoric
and hatred;
loss,
although they had no idea
how much there would be;
debris
that would be
searched and searched
to try to provide certainty
to so many families;
the skyline,
forever changed by absence
but eventually to be renewed.
By the time they emerged
from the building,
there was something in
the world's eyes.

Blowout

With storms past, present and future in the news lately, I am posting a poem I wrote about Kartina. It is also one of the few poems in which I have drawn on my knowledge of sports.

Blowout

The presence of the Saints
was scattered throughout New Orleans.
Black and gold T-shirts, caps and jerseys
were a common sight.
Suddenly, the shirts were soaked with flood waters,
the caps were used to wave down rescuers
and the jerseys engulfed loved ones
and absorbed their tears.
This touchdown was not cheered but feared.
Numerous fumbles ensued
and the recovery is still a work in progress.