Irene - Brazos

The neighborhood is lining up again

The local food bazaar filled to the brim

The sky, a grey light drizzle but quite calm

Pedestrians stream home before the storm

I’m a dot

A particle, free

I’m waiting for the surge from the sea

The wind picks up

And brushes down the track

Each raindrop, a pinprick on my back

And so i stop by brother mark’s

To stay the night with friends

I pour 4 whiskeys on the rocks

He cooks beneath the dimly lit kitchen clock

All the while we talk of hurricanes

Back in houston then — canoeing in the rain

Laura drops

Her finger in the sauce

She says it’s good for all of us to eat

So we stop

Enough to hear the knock

Swaying branches and raindrops in sheets

Tapping on the top

Wrapping us in breeze

The night i spend sleeping on the floor

In and out of sleep — a room with no door

The tree outside projects a silhouette

And bends back and fourth like a blade of grass

I’m up

So i walk down the hall

I watch my friends sleeping sound

And i stop long enough

To spread my thoughts around

I awake to the sound of breakfast bells

So i guess that means the battery held

We take a camera down on the street

Among the limbs freshly cracked at our

The air is clean

The trains still at a halt

The boarded up windows on the block

Sit so serene

The calming aftermath

The entrails of the midnight bath

And of course we’re holding hands

Or at least thinking like that