Spring 2007 • Vol. XXIX No. 2 PoetryApril 1, 2007 |

Afterwords

Now I will speak about unquiet things here in the hurricane's black aftermath. But first let me describe the whitening sky which greeted me, the day after the storm, How white contained all necessary hues out of which I can make the coming day. But first let me describe for you the flower which I can cause to wither or to bloom. But first let me set down for you a prayer the words of which are unoriginal and could be poetry or could be God speaking directly from disaster's eye which is the hurricane's as it broke up and never hit directly but sent this—a calm I'm writing from dozens of poems. 

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