the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Sunday, December 7, 2008


There is such tragedy in disagreement
And its multitude of degrees.
Here in Louisiana,
In this very state,
You can find ropes dangling
From the topmost balconies
Flags to a confederate history.
They beat our windows at night
Stirring the fright my ancestors once felt
The panes cry as the condensation thickens
And the fresh wounds heat and swell.

But here in this dark ocean
The waves roar, but do not crash.
They soar in unison
The uplifting feathers
Of a caged eagle, painted black.
This is my pride.
This is my place.

Yet we are an error
You find you must white out
O, sweet southern belle
How I love you so dearly,
But this place is not meant for me.

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