The lights
are back on
but is
anybody
home? Who
will scrape
the mold
and rust from
this building
built for
those who
marched
to a different
drummer
in a different
time:
When
summers sang
from ship to
shore,
when tales
were told
of a great
Nor'easter
back in the fall
of '25 —
the biggest
storm ever —
thus,
nevermore.
Memories,
memories:
Black mold,
red rust
March out of
this time
Drum ship to
shore
Tell tales
nevermore
of a biggest
storm.
The lights
are back on
but is
anybody
home?
Written for Poetics — Through the Artist's Lens — at dVerse Poets hosted this week by Brian Miller, who shared with us the art and photography of a blogger/artist named SueAnn. I selected her piece above as the prompt for my poem.
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