Waiting for Gustav

Saturday morning
and the sky
is gentle blue

Has it been
only three years
since I watched
a mother

find
her dead son's
marine uniform
in the ruins
of her home?

soiled in ways
that will never
wash out.

The detritus
of a nation's
failure rubbed
into the fabric
of the world

Politicians smile,
announce the coming
victory

raise joined hands
in triumph
speak about a bright
and shining future

They do not see
the haunted eyes
of frightened souls
fleeing from the coast

and the sky
such a gentle blue
today.

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A Quiet Evening

"What's wrong," he asked,

and she gazed, passive

past

the foot of the bed,

considered

whether to tell him

how she felt, wondered

whether it was worth

the extra tension, whether

it would pile up

against the door

like snow,

pinning them inside.

The rain poured down

like complaints, the storm

downgraded

from a hurricane

to a nagging

wife.

She thought

about concessions

she'd made, things

she'd left

unsaid

to keep the peace,

and sighed, sadness

eating

at the corners

of her eyes.

"Nothing," she replied,

"Let's read."

She picked up

a magazine

and read aloud

in a voice

that was sure

and confident

but never speaks

out of turn.

Old Friends, New Regrets

The hummingbirds
have
vanished,
and, too,
the butterflies.
No rain
and the heat is
heavy,
like summer
in Morocco.

They found
Jimmy's body
by the pool
yesterday
after two
days
in the sun.

Eulalie died
by the tub,
three days gone
before we missed her.

Like finding
the bones of cattle
at a dried-up pond.
This drought
will not relent.

So why is it still
so green?

I had promised
Eulalie a call,
but the phone
just rang
and rang.

And Jimmy,
he was young.
He'd made a fortune;
hence, the pool.


I thought
there would be
time
for reunions
later.


I asked Kelly
if he'd play
"Old Man"
on his guitar
Friday.
I listened
and sang along,
remembering
that last long drive
in LA
when I mourned
my lost youth
and wished
I could hurry things
along.

And now
I miss
old friends
but hang on,
a stubborn Pagan
in a world
full of Christians
telling me
it's not too late
to be saved.

But it is.

Next time
I'll let it ring
and ring
until someone
picks up the phone.

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