.....Hour By Minute...Wednesday After Gustav Poem by elysabeth faslund

First day out and about...Mother of God! ! ! !
Were you an evacuee from Heaven, that you
Could not soften/temper your Son's crucified
Hands?
Blood sunset, blood sunrise, blood sky...blood.
With what water does redemption/salvation/baptism
Arrive?
Where?

Why rail against Heaven, child?

My neighbors, dead eyes/spirit, slog
Wooden crosses/trees down the street.
This is Golgotha...with innumerable crosses
Sky-dark slanting screams to a nation...

Do you hear us, Mother?
Are you listening, Pure of Sin?
Sins of Heaven, we need none of yours.
Our sins were happiness.

No water down the flooded bayous...

Do not say quiet prayers...for us.
Batter down the doors to Heaven
With shouts, screams...for us...
Those doors closed by broken trees,
Knotted by spiderwebs of power lines.

Rain falls again...soundless.
Impotent.