This is the second of a three-part series on Hurricane Rita; the first poem was preparing for her assault on Houston; this second poem was written during her passing to the east of us and was delayed due to no electricity in the city for 24 hours; the final poem will address Rita's aftermath.

Rita now is fifty miles inland
Having decimated the Gulf Coast again
Houston refugees on roads anew
And being told there is no fuel
A little wind and branches strewn about
Is all that’s left of Rita’s clout

Poor Louisiana loses out again
Cameron and Lake Charles a little chagrined
These folks were not supposed to feel Rita’s wrath
But Hurricanes defy computer models with their path
Port Arthur and Beaumont did not escape
Refineries shut down and our economy raped

Winds howl outside at forty knots
People safe in shelters on their cots
Texan kindness rises to the challenge
For stranded motorists living life’s fringe
Dark bands of clouds push across the sky
No electricity, phone service, or nothing to buy

Rita has come and gone
Wrecked her havoc on people once strong
Nomads traveling roads unknown to them
Nary a transgression or commission of sin
Life’s cruel fate strikes three weeks later
Leaving a people refusing to crater