Waking Up

I'm nestled in a minivan full

of strangers.

 

We're rolling through Gulfport,

On our way to Biloxi.

At first everything looks fine.

I see maybe five car audio stores and think:

Well, at least people's priorities are back to normal.

Walmart appears to be thriving,

Its parking lot chock full of cars.

I count four open fast food restaurants;

Things don't seem so bad.

But then we hit the shoreline and

All conversation in the car

fades away

as our eyes fall

upon the horizon.

 

Images rush over us in a deluge

We can't quite comprehend

the haunted

memory of

trees leaning

away from

the sea

 

an entire coast

static in the

process of

remembering

 

helpless

insides

of sagging

buildings

 

And suddenly every image

On the television

From last summer

Blooms bitterly

Into focus.