A Survivor Thinks of Friends After a Natural Disaster

The Drowned and the Saved ~ Paolo Levi

Catastrophe's cold hand cannot be judged;
results are everything there is to see.
I live to tell it, hear the requiem,
a traffic dodging wide boy who got through.

By index finger, middle finger, ring
finger, little finger, thumb, I tap
an anthem beat by note or beat by word,
marking time and syllable by hand

as though a hand could make it safe by holding.
As if by counting into form I might
put all the pieces back into the box
or make a way to speak, to try to talk

into a sludge trap of departed souls:
I see them always waving, always drowning.

Photograph by P.S.Richards Copyright 2006

Peter's writing ambitions were revived on discovering the internet in 1996. There have been publications around the net since then, notably in The New Formalist, Snakeskin and The Poetry Worm. Born in London, Peter works as a teacher and carpenter in Oslo, in that side of life which is usually called real.

Table Of Contents    Next Poem    Guidelines