We’re out in the morning
driving down 8th street after the rain
looking for coffee in a favorite neighborhood
trying to figure out if this store or that cafe
made it through the night.
I’m expecting to see palm fronds in the street
sandy-colored mutts running at an angle
cars and cans tipped over
telling the rest of us to be quiet be quiet
while they try to
sleep it off.
A hurricane
came through town these last 13 months
there was a
hurricane in town, touching down,
and we’re out and about in the morning now
driving through the next-day sun.
The street’s wet from 13 months of
when’s it gonna end
and we’re looking around for coffee and
an old rhythm.
Looking down streets
and in windows
to see who’s still here.
