A Cinquain Series poem
What is
there left to say?
So many lives are lost,
and still more will be suffering,
and yet …
And yet
we cannot grasp
this place where we must stay
may well collapse under the strain,
reset ...
Reset
against pressure
to yield much more from less,
given strength it should not possess,
it churns …
It churns,
we hear the gasps,
Our very existence
soon to hang, precarious
victims …
Victims,
with few answers
to this fiercest fury,
rising to engulf all that cross
its path …
Its path,
never certain,
much clearer its intent
to reclaim what had been taken
and spent …
And spent
without remorse.
little thought was given
to consequences of our course,
driven …
Driven
to see the end
of our insanities,
reconciling reckless dreams to
what is…
We need to find “what is.” We cannot continue to take and not restore.
Please pardon me if you find this a jumble of words and images. It was designed to give the reader a feeling of what we sense and feel while we’re sitting, waiting on the second hurricane in two weeks.
We break away only to read the rants aimed at FEMA’s efforts to help us, a virtual hurricane of lies and hateful disinformation as bad as the physical ones we are facing.
May a cold northern wind shear shatter both hurricanes and leave peace in its wake.
Hurricane Ian two years ago
Annotated maps and video show before and after view of damage from Hurricane Ian
Hurricane Ian lashed Florida with 150-mph winds and storm surge. Here's a before and after look at the destruction.www.usatoday.com
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Powerful!
One of those times when living in Florida really sucks...