The Caravan of Lost Souls
a Poem Dedicted to the Evacuees of Hurricane Irma
Beyond the grasp of death itself
Such horrors should remain unseen
There lies a graveyard of cars
Within the rest stops of the interstates
Heading north out of endless sunshine
Into the oblivion that awaits.
Faces of soulless souls
Looking for that which cannot be found
A home away from home
A pillow to replace a car’s head rest
A bed to comfort wearied bodies
In a way back seats cannot.
Tears born of fear for friends
Left behind, hunkering down
In the wake of an approaching monster.
Broken smiles, shattered dreams
And worst of all – an abundance of time
For our planted seeds of torment
To form into full grown terrifying nightmares!
Come daylight, the Nomadic Caravan pushes onward
We need no prayers, nor explanations
We just want to return to our lives
As soon as possible.
