Dark skies of clouds hued to wolf’s fur

The precipitation falls smoothly

Onto my skin

The smell of the world

Is a scent you recognize

For a second before

The smell of smog and debris

Overwhelm your system

The thick humid air thinned

Years after the storm

The trees that once

Reaped pink flowers of purity

We’re ripped from the humble

Foundation they were laid upon

Clear skies reveal the truth

The skies of blue without

Trace of cloud

Are meaningless in the eyes

Of a child whom envisioned

A world of paradise far from

The coast he was bound

A paradise shattered by

Katrina.

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