I. Monday, August 29, 2005
On the day the waters came, they washed her clean
a week of sweat, a lifetime's fear and loss
all washed out to sea On the day the waters came, they took her shoes
sucked them in mud from her feet
and carried them out to sea On the day the waters came, they knocked at her door
entered unwelcomed, and washed away
what she had hidden under the stairs
boxes long forgotten, now swept out to sea On the day the waters came, she fled up the stairs
waves lapping at her heels
she held tight to her furniture
but lost it all to the sea
The attic was no refuge, on the day the waters came
boxes of memories, dreams long forgotten
and all she thought was safely stowed away
returned to the persistent sea On the day the waters came
there was nowhere for her to go
a dying house, groaning in pain
old eyes searching for the horizon
through a slatted attic vent
too small for her gnarled fingers On the day the waters came
there was so little left
so little left
for the sea to take
she was alone with nothing else to give
as she watched the waves
come up with the sun
II. Friday, September 30, 2005
Today on the news there was
A cadaver dog
Searching for the dead
In the devastated city They trained him with
What they nervously called
Samples so that he could
Recognize the smell admist the rubble He'd sniff and pace from house to
House tail wagging with joy
And finally stop and stare with nose
Pointed up moldy stairs to a sealed attic A scratch behind the ears
A hearty good boy from
A trainer with dark rimmed eyes and
A thousand-yard stare To the trainer it was
About the hope
That when the waters came
They chose to leave something behind To the dog it was just a game
That he played for the reward
Of a green tennis ball
That had lost its bounce
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