Enter the Hurricane

Trashed by the psychic static of hurricane Katrina,
Our love end-runs the levee's leakage;
In hope's paper boat folded on the flood
Bobs our buoyant good beyond all breakage.

Beyond the missed clasps of disaster's trance,
Past pain's barbed fillips and routine "ah!s,"
We two now trudge in love who once did race
Beyond what bounds our meaning's measure could:

Novices, not novitiates, among stung unknowns.
Come, stand a little near.  Nearer to Thee
We trundle curdled milk and mismatched sneakers
To the tumbled dump.  Humbly we beseech Ye.

Closely come to loving wonders all un-won;
Let not love, new-won, take us for idle speakers.