Sandy Mist

Sandy Mist

for hurricane sandy

 

There it is again,

Early morning wears it like

eerie, soft cerement..

A snarl of squirrels

looting the pumpkins.

 

It hides what is there.

The closer you get,

the harder it is to see.

Until the sun reveals

truths misted over.

 

It still hurts,

trunks like shrapnel

hemming the streets,

roots no secret

limbs akimbo,

like the neighbors.

 

But then you say you are laughing now.

Laughing after all that.

My splinter makes itself known.

Haze settles like salt on a wound.

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