After Hurricane Katrina: Waiting for a Rhyme


Once it has come to have its place with us

The holy really cannot let us go.

I have seen it stare back at me from trees

Felled by a hurricane and still extend

Leaf after leaf with green imaginings

Which while they cure in the black aftermath

Carried me for a moment: I was here

In the blue waiting room of heaven outside.


But since this is a sonnet, fourteen lines

The small apartment you and I can share,

I'm leaving decoration up to you.

Remember, somehow pull it together,

Be witty, oh, and rhyme with paradise. 


  —Peter Cooley



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Kid Merv’s Story