Waves crash against the Southernmost Point in Key West, Fla., Saturday, last at night September 9, 2017. Hurricane Irma’s leading edge bent palm trees and spit rain as the storm swirled toward the Florida Keys Sunday morning. (Rob O’Neal/The Key West Citizen via AP)

Author’s note: Irma was so strong that national media reporters scooted from the Keys. The only images and reporting of Irma’s approach and landfall on Sunday morning were social media streamed video and local media forays into the storm.

Irma was roaring up Florida when out the corner of my eye
Caught a woman’s strong breath and tears bursting forth from the sky
She said to me “I never seen a man, who looks so worried and alone
Could you use some friends in peril calling you on the phone?
Pay my high price, I guarantee outcomes that’re nice.”
I fixed her with a glare, the blood in my veins became ice
I said “You’ve got such a pretty old timey name
Why’s hurting folks and breaking stuff your game??

Irma looked at me and this is what she said

“There ain’t no rhyme or reason for this season of the wicked
Plus I dont care much for trees with leaves
I ain’t about collecting sins-forgiven tickets
or giving needy mouths something free to feed
There’s nothing in this world that’s fair or free
No, there ain’t no rest for the innocent in this season of the wicked
Until my storm eye closes for good

Not even fifteen minutes later, after walking down the street
When I saw the shadows of storm bands sweeping into sight
And then they swept up from behind, their rain slammed my head
They made it clear they weren’t looking for a fight
They said “We’re taking all you’ve got
We want your stuff, maybe your life
If you try to make a move we won’t think twice”
I told them “you can have my things
But first you know I’ve got to ask
What made you want to live this kind of life?”

“There ain’t no rhyme or reason for this season of the wicked
Plus we dont care much for trees with leaves
We ain’t about collecting sins-forgiven tickets
or giving needy mouths something free to feed
There’s nothing in this world that’s fair or free
No, there ain’t no rest for the innocent in this season of the wicked
Until Irma’s storm eye closes for good

Well, now a couple hours past and I was sitting i my house
The day was winding down and coming to an end
So I turned on the TV
And flipped it over to the storm news
And what I saw I almost couldn’t comprehend
I saw a weather man in the surge’s grip, taking him down the street
His face betrayed he’d bet and lost, soon would be quite chilled
But even still I can’t say much because I know were all the same
Oh yes we all seek out to satisfy these thrills

“There ain’t no rhyme or reason for this season of the wicked
Plus I dont care much for trees with leaves
I ain’t about collecting sins-forgiven tickets
or giving needy mouths something free to feed
There’s nothing in this world that’s fair or free
No, there ain’t no rest for the innocent in this season of the wicked
Until Irma’s storm eye closes for good

Copyright 2017 My Isle Seat
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