The Goddess Of Hurricane Irene

The Goddess of Hurricane Irene

Girl, I put a note in a bottle
for Hurricane Irene to carry away:
don’t know where you’ve gone again

Country girl, I know
you always liked to
climb into the sky on your slinky tree
when you were like a cougar on the prowl,
could move me purrr-fectly well

but if only you hadn’t
always moved away
though playfully
you seemed to know you moved me

but I could never track you up a tree, and
only thought that cougars could fly

Maybe if I’d wrapped you in corn silk
and known the kernel of your heart
you’d have thought me more than husk, but

I’ve put a note in a bottle
for Hurricane Irene.

Bechance, once, I saw you do
a whirl-wind dance on the bridge
your hair like glancing rays, you
crossing with the sun and with your smile
and I thought you’d stay in the city
be giddy with me in the wild dance
in the curl up

Surf’s swirling on the beach so I
put a love note in a bottle.

Oh folksy girl, for you I’ve cared; don’t know why
you’d ever say I’d be a tiger suitor
whose roar would make you
more nervous than
“a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”

You’ve covered over the bridge of our relationship
and moved to Vermont where storms never reach
said we’re washed up, but

For impossible things I’ve
put a note in a bottle, started to
“nail jelly to the wall”
way back on the boarded up farm
and I’m looking for a tornado, because

Take note:
you’d always said you’d love me
when pigs fly, and
hurricanes reach Vermont

—Douglas Gilbert