Seven Years Later

Streams of the new day broke through the gray storm clouds as we zigsawed our path where we could up Claibourne ave. into the ninth ward. Boodini had let me know that we needed to make a go towards the crescent city once again because she knew he would be waiting. For hours out of Texas the windshield wipers gave beat to the cadence of the clicking road beneath our wheels on that Louisiana highway from Lafayette to Morgan City, and then north to New Orleans.We had arrived, and as we pulled up in front of the battered small church house roof from the boat's bow was Boo's tattered, wet, hurricane Issac beat brother. Almost a splitting imagine of herself. Like old home week.........