by Carolyn W. Callighan
Along the coast. The buildings and the dunes,
Mere toys against a sea, urged through the moon's
Insistent push of water, spun and flew
In all directions. Picked up by the wind,
Possessions were encased in sand. Each one,
Grief-stricken, stared at damage done.
And, turning, Sand and damage to no end. . . .
And now, weeks later, holidays and lights ring in
A time of joy, but how to celebrate
When all is topsy-turvy? How do we create
A place of peace and joy, and stop the spin?
We look within ourselves, and here we find
The strength we need to heal, and to be kind.
Carolyn W. Callighan grew up in Nashville, Tennessee, then moved to the East Coast for college and work thereafter. She lived and worked for several decades in Boston, Phildalphia, Washington, and, finally, the New York City area. Now, after several decades, she is back in Nashville.
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