My Kitchen Counter
in New Orleans
A place where family and friends come as one to meet,
And take refuge from the storm for a bit to eat.
They walk from the back yard to come inside and hang around,
I hear one tell of how Aunt Marthaís house has been flattened to the ground.
At my kitchen counter itís not fancy, nor a place of dťcor,
Itís a place where people end up meeting to tell of their disastrous lore.
My wooden table is set with napkins on a roll and paper plates and bowls,
For the feast thatís being prepared for this family of displaced souls.
They are all a family of strength, that have congregated with good intent,
For they have lost everything, in this natural disaster that did not relent.
Hurricane Katrina was her name,
And this time she played no game.
She wiped out many lives and scattered them all to every direction of the winds,
With recklessness that seemed to have no end.
But at my kitchen counter, there is peace from the floods,
For people I donít even know, who are waiting for some grub.
So remember when you sit at your table indoors for a meal,
To say a prayer of thanks that you didnít have to go through any of their ordeal.
But with hope there is always a bright shinning light,
And my kitchen counter in New Orleans will be open as long as they need me throughout the night.
Mary Lynn Plaisance
What inspired me to write this one?
I wiped my kitchen counter tonight and was
so thankful that I had a counter to wipe.
Better days are a coming