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Saturday, August 30, 2008

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.