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.