Winter Storm Warning
For tonight, chance of snow:
Chance of conditions you do not know.
"Friday night, snowy, windy,
May last ‘til Sunday,"
Maybe one day,
You’ll be laid low.
Pack all the supplies you can,
Into a bunker or four-wheel drive van,
Throw in some extras, like a tire that's bare
And tell your kids, “Let’s go.”
But where? You pretend to know.
"Anywhere, anywhere I don't care!"
Away from the house with the giant tree,
That might fall and crush you, mother and me.
Away from power lines crackling on ice,
They’re explosive and electrocution's not very nice!
Up from Cape Hatteras,
Barrels the storm,
Where we’ve heard horror tales
Of strong gales and anxious watch,
Do we trust our lazy guts or the isobars?
On to New York,
Where they never quail
In the face of danger
Though the winds might wail,
Past Block Island with towering waves
To the Sound and the fury and gale.
We grit our teeth and batten the hatches,
Tell stories of worse weather watch to soothe,
Keeping voices low and emotions smooth.
Yet weather folks, hysterical, predict our fate,
Willing the worst, making us wait.
This time the flickering power stays on,
Our street isn't flooded
And the roof's not gone.
"All that fuss for nothing!" say the young and brave,
While you have that same dream of an old, rogue wave.
Nov 9, 2019
Nov 9, 2019 at 8:15 AM UTC
Winter Storm Warning
For tonight, chance of snow:
Chance of conditions you do not know.
"Friday night, snowy, windy,
May last ‘til Sunday,"
Maybe one day,
You’ll be laid low.
Pack all the supplies you can,
Into a bunker or four-wheel drive van,
Throw in some extras, like a tire that's bare
And tell your kids, “Let’s go.”
But where? You pretend to know.
"Anywhere, anywhere I don't care!"
Away from the house with the giant tree,
That might fall and crush you, mother and me.
Away from power lines crackling on ice,
They’re explosive and electrocution's not very nice!
Up from Cape Hatteras,
Barrels the storm,
Where we’ve heard horror tales
Of strong gales and anxious watch,
Do we trust our lazy guts or the isobars?
On to New York,
Where they never quail
In the face of danger
Though the winds might wail,
Past Block Island with towering waves
To the Sound and the fury and gale.
We grit our teeth and batten the hatches,
Tell stories of worse weather watch to soothe,
Keeping voices low and emotions smooth.
Yet weather folks, hysterical, predict our fate,
Willing the worst, making us wait.
This time the flickering power stays on,
Our street isn't flooded
And the roof's not gone.
"All that fuss for nothing!" say the young and brave,
While you have that same dream of an old, rogue wave.
Probably inspired by an actual storm warning, how frightened people (especially kids) can be, or how calm. Some of the silly planning is included, things that won't really help.And the way it often amounts to nothing, but whose fear always hovers somewhere--in the back of one's mind, or in dreams.
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