Almost any name of a town you can think of,
That’s been used, has been used in Texas;
From Paris to London;
Carthage to Athens;
Nazareth to Palestine.
And not just classical, they’ve made some up too;
Like, “Nacogdoches” and “Galveston”.

It’s pretty tall and wide too.
If you can stand it, you could drive it,
From 5000 feet up at Texline,
All the way down to Brownsville.
Or go the almost 800 miles, El Paso to Houston,
Plus another 50 down to sea-level at Galveston.

Speaking of traveling weather;
When you get brisk fall nights
In desert high country out west,
You can get down to 33,
While you’re still suffering in humidity
At the eastern Gulf coast sea.

They get big thunderstorms, Supercells
That’ll fill up a riverside
Make it flash flood its banks,
Or spawn a tornado (called a Twister)
That comes at you looking double-wide.

Lots of years passed; they didn’t get any hurricanes,
Or just a few –
Some went into the wild, middle coast; don’t bother much but birds.
They got some small ones, hit almost in Mexico –
Just one or two.
Sooner or later, your year comes back around
Ike formed in mid-ocean during peak-season 2008
Had a look I remember from the last time I had to leave town,
(that was ’99 I think) – Anyway,
This one had its eye on some peaceful beach town’s fate…

It was coming to Texas, that was pretty soon sure.
In places like: Freeport, Galveston, and Sabine Pass
The wisest course of action: “you’d better leave.”
The “hurricane boys” kept saying: “winds of category 2,
But it’s carrying surge enough to be a 4.”
If people would only stop “second-guessing”
And their scientific measurements truly believe.

Everything comes big in Texas,
And this one was as big as the state.
So organized and powerful, an unusual category two.
IKE came at night like they always seem to do,
[Makes it scarier and more dangerous]
The winds howled, the power failed; all the coast shrouded
In a black, all-encompassing mist.
IKE came ashore on Galveston Island,
Shaking beach houses with pounding surf & waves
Like a mighty watery fist.

Pushing cars and debris like a thousand bulldozers gone mad
IKE collapsed walls & roofs, piling boats up like toys;
An awful lot of folks that stayed learned all about “prayer”
Some didn’t make it, but those who did got a lifetime scare.
They were beat, wet & ruined and now knew:
“Guess they know what they’re doing, those “hurricane boys”

Though the water rose all day, the final surge came sudden
[Just like they always say] –
Like the dawning realization: “maybe we were wrong to stay”
And on the “morning after” people called in to get on out
Though miserable they were told: “It’ll take some time yet today”
They’d been told: “That was what the evacuation was all about”

In every event like this, there’s a place like “Surfside Beach”
All 900 or so folks listened well and foolish they were not.
Except for a broken old drunk, who was out of touch & out of reach;
That’s OK; God will look after one poor fool, but not a whole lot.
In the morning he was still drunk, sitting, waving from his porch
Maybe the alcohol kept him so relaxed during the frightful storm,
He was unable to trouble much and so stayed free from harm.
Or maybe he was kept above the fray, by an Angel’s holy arm.

In every event like this, there’s a place like “Port Bolivar”
Million dollar permanent homes built right up to the sea
A sandy inlet, the privileged enjoy a beach near, the view far.
So many near misses, yet the final day came and they would not flee,
Over half the population thought that it just a fancy media show
“These storms always weaken near land; it just won’t be that bad”
Yet they were told this time, it would not be so;
(“We won’t go”) - How sad.
The next day the ocean claimed her own; the inlet was farther wide,
And all those who knew so much, were either dead or trapped inside.
Nobody could walk away, the surf still lapping at crumbled walls,
As rescue forces mobilized, the only sounds: circling gulls’ eerie calls.

Yep, everything comes big-sized in Texas,
The hurricanes –
And even the fools…

c. September 2008, Michael A. Guy, all rights reserved

 HEAR and read about CD August Ocean Overture by Michael Guy