Tuesday, November 01, 2005

A Different Tomorrow

You imagine it will be like a kid's
pop-up book--tomorrow morning, or the next,
or, perhaps, the day after that.

New Orleans will unfold like a butterfly
in Joseph coat colors. Whalloped houses,
toppled trees, snapped poles will jerk upright
from the Gulf, on down through Florida and out
across the blue, chastened waters to Mexico.

The dead will rise chanting on broad-shouldered
horses, break bread for the hungry, throw
kisses to those left behind weeping, only to fade
as the sun does, come evening.

Perhaps, the morning after this happening, this
undoing, this back slap at Revelations, a photo
of a young man in Vietman kaiki will implode
from its mud grave. Thought swallowed by the storms,
it will wash clean, reclaim its place on that carved mantle
it now seems to have never abandoned.



~help keep my knees from knocking when the winds
howl, the house shivers, and tree tops fly~

9 comments:

Michelle e o said...

That was really beautiful. I missed your lovely writing. Glad to know you are okay and things are progressing to some sense of normalcy.

Pris said...

Hi Michelle
Thank you! When I get some energy back I'm going to come visit you. The power flickers are continuing here, so I'm still not secure our power is on to stay.

Pris

Michael Parker said...

Pris, there is not a poem of yours I have not thought highly of. YOur talent often leaves me awed and very moved. Having said this, this "Different Tomorrow" is poignant, wonderful. Another fine write.

Lyle Daggett said...

Hi, Pris. Just dropping by, likewise glad to see you back.

Liked the poem. And hope you're managing all right.

Coloratura said...

Lovely, just lovely... hope you're doing alright.

Pris said...

Thanks, all of you. It's so good to see familiar faces again. The power is still holding as of today. Later, I may try to unload my camera and post a few photos taken during the storm, but my energy is still so low I'm trying to pace myself to get it back. I appreciate the positive comments on the poem.

Pris said...

Michelle..ps, i meant revisit your site:-) i didn't want you to think i was going to show up on your doorstep. Good luck with the journal!!!

Michelle e o said...

Oh sure, I waited up all night for you. I had warm blueberry muffins and hot tea set out (and a bottle of wine set aside with a platter of olives, cheese & crackers) just in case you weren't in a muffin mood. That's ok, I put it ALL in the freezer, think it will keep?

Pris said...

Torture. Torture. Maybe you could Fed Ex it all down...well, except I don't think Fed Ex is running down here right now :-)

Darn!