(x = space)

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Nicole

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Hammering the east side

(no hyperbole)

Working its way over now

To wreak havoc

Like the dogs of war

On the panhandle,

Then move north

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We’ll get remnants

No one seems to care

Up here for here

(good)

But six hundred thousand people

Without power

How shall they do?

How shall they cook

And read

And watch TV

Manipulate keyboards and screens

And stay cool?

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It’s still Florida, after all

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What can we say

To habitual destruction

Only to build the same, again

And maybe many times?

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I’ve not been there enough

(not enough)

To understand the charm

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Their politics are weird

But I wish for them

Electricity,

Dry days

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I could wish that

This would learn us all

Something of our neighbors,

Their catastrophes

That linger years

In loss and less than everything

In daily rise

And style

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For now,

Floridians

We pray for you

Really for now

For all the wreckage

You must live through

And as they come

For fair winds

And following seas

And maybe for

A long, long while

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C L Couch

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Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

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