Katrina

I sit and take in the devastation around me.

Rubble from a thousand trees carpets the ground.

Mighty oaks born in the era of the horse-drawn carriage lay toppled heaving roots to the sky.

Rivulets of sweat pour down my face and chest; they rain a salty protest to the sweltering August air.

Phones are silenced. There is no electricity.

Yet I am blessed. I have shelter with water and means to cook.

The hum of a generator lulls me to sleep during the pitch black night.

The lack of city sounds is eerie in the darkness.

Everyone seems to be waiting in helpless anticipation of what will come next.

We may be stuck like this for weeks.

Our prayers are that we don't run out of food or gas first.

@>~~