after Dennis

The hurricane left Cape San Blas
torqued and twisted . Wooden walkways
lay tossed as rippled keyboards
among the ruined pines and palms.
The dunes were sliced layer cake,

pastel cottages like frosting flowers
teetering off the top. The Gulf, still
seething, sized them up, while wooden stairs
led to nowhere, but the calm, clear sky,
cleansed, cloudless, innocent of peril.