I am knee deep in grading, final exams to write, and assorted other end of the semester tasks. But I'm popping in to link you to a poem I contributed to our school's online literary journal (first issue just out this week). The poem is called "Sounds from this House." I wrote down the idea a long time ago, because I had noticed that the sounds out of every window of our house are different. I decided to catalog them. I didn't intend for the poem to be about the earthquake, but somehow it got in there; at the time, everything I wrote was about the earthquake in one way or another.
Sounds from this House, Delmas 83, Haiti
There is a different sound from each bedroom in this house.
Upstairs, you can hear the conversations next door,
Loud voices speaking Kreyol,
Cajoling, joking, insulting,
Sometimes shouts, and a few times, even a gunshot.
There are parties and vodou ceremonies,
Music and drumming through the night.
From the other window, church wafts in;
Singing, preaching, microphone-amplified.
You can read the rest here.
And Robyn Hood Black has today's roundup here.
2 hours ago