After the Storm

Neither a word nor whisper in the air.
A man staggers down the street
caressing a photograph in his hand.
Wind gusts swirl through a tortured town,
toward a new destination;
tall, marvelous buildings now
undressed with their gowns lying on the floor

Birds creep into cracks; they
have no songs left to sing.

Tears trickle down the man’s face as
his lips draw a blank,
memories flash in his head.

The sun, a familiar visitor,
rises to watch and spread love to the survivors

Onward to the next town,
the wind lifts picks up the photograph
for a roller coaster ride.

A school of fish once splashed in the sea,
now stuck to the sand.

The man says a final goodbye;
his picture swirls toward the sky