It was in the midst of a short conversation, with a particular Twitter friend and very capable poet (Twitter ID @Fumanchucat), who lives in New York. Hurricane Irene was blowing its way up the East coast and heading for the big city and causing no uncertain amount of fear and trepidation in the minds of everyone. This was such that evacuation plans were being made in preparation for the expected flooding and structural damage that would follow the high winds.
Anyway, this conversation; it went as follows: –
Fumanchucat: “Hurricane update: Boring! Y A W N…”
Poetjanstie: “What! No armageddon, no deafening fury of satanic proportions, no blood-curdling screams for mercy, no flying cars…!?”
Fumanchucat: “Irene is one boring chick, lemme tell ya’..”
Poetjanstie: “Isn’t there even a slight breeze?”
Fumanchucat: “Some leaves are putting on a show but no shake, rattle and roll”
I imagine, if she’ll forgive me for saying this, that she is one dour, but very erudite New Yorker, whose feathers don’t get ruffled easily! She makes me smile and sometimes laugh and writes some pretty damn good poetry to boot.
That phrase “Some leaves are putting on a show…” immediately stuck and I suggested that it looked like the makings of a poem, thinking that she might take it up, but all she said in reply to that was “Go, John, go!”. How could I refuse the offer?
In spite of the tongue-in-cheek light-hearted nature of this poem, my thoughts still remain now and for the coming days and weeks with the families of anyone who was lost in the wake of this once powerful storm and for the immense damage it wreaked on its journey.
So, this poem is not only for Lady Fumanchu, who is responsible for inspiring it, but also for our other particular friend, writer and poet, Joe Hesch (Twitter ID @JAHesch), who kept up a running commentary of the storm’s slightly more damaging passage through his neck of the woods, a little way further out of New York, in Albany.
Above all, we and I’m sure they are grateful the storm didn’t do as much damage as was originally predicted.
(Read the Poem)