The air is heavy
Sticking to my skin
Falling over everything
Making each exhale
Drop like rain
And each inhale
Stink like fish and foul breath
It’s quiet
And empty
Not a ghost town
For cars line the street and
A shop’s door is propped open with a fan,
And not silent
For the insects buzz
A bird chirps
And somewhere you can hear a low hum.
“Look here”
A concrete building
One wall
Once bright orange
Is peeling and faded
Mold and mildew makes a canvas of a wall across the alley
And if you know where to look
You’ll see train tracks once ran straight through it
“We used to go here to see play’s
They moved to the old movie theater after a flood
The building hasn’t been used in years”
Down the street
We walk
Stepping over reflective puddles of rainwater
Filling in dips in the sidewalk
Like the glass dome of the sky shattered
And the shimmering blue-gray slices fell to Earth
“Here,
This is the Heritage House
The roof was damaged in the last hurricane
See
There
The tarps are everywhere now
You never know if it’s money
Or waitlists for roofers”
And the town opens its wounds again
Blowing blue tarps in the wind
The ocean swallows the land.