Galveston, 1900
First the wind, then a tide like no other
uprooting the calm,
a visage tilted back in descent
as if listening for the aftermath.
And later, the gardener’s lament
and the building’s exposed ribs,
light entering the eternal
orchard, nine children tied to a cincture.
Not even the earth could retain its bodies,
and the sea remanded those given to its care.
“Galveston, 1900” first appeared here in January 2015. Last February it was accepted for publication in an anthology to be published in 2020, but alas, I’ve just been informed that the publisher is unable to move forward on it. Such is the literary life.
O at the Edges 
Bummer the publication’s thwarted – but this poem serves as gratitude boost – Galveston in 1900 a lot more devastating than most of our 2020 chaos!
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Oh, it happens a couple of times a year. The small press side of publication is difficult, to say the least. And yes, Galveston in 1900 was devastating, at least to the locals.
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Sorry about the disappointment
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Thanks, Derrick. It happens on occasion, but doesn’t cause much dismay these days. Ha.
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🙂
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