Freeport Rhapsody
FREEPORT RHAPSODY…
(Apropos A Visit Home )
Tired shrimp boats sit moored
along the muddy banks of the Brazos;
their day’s catch iced down and waiting.
Tormenting mosquitoes flew
from puddles of water
pooled between blades of salt grass,
feasting on the fresh blood
of buzzed home comers.
The aroma of seafood gumbo pots
saturated the salt water air; and the clinking
bottle caps signaled the gathering of keno players.
Olympian domino players slap their table tops
with rhythms that rival the best of Art Blakely’s
drumming on a full moon Afro Night.
Teams of bid whist players
played musical chairs.
Over chattering voices, echoes of howling dogs
faded into canine whimpers
as Gulf Coast breeze blew sweet memories:
Indeed there’s no place
like home.
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