Dives: The Remnants of Debbie

By John J. Ronan

There was a certain rich man who was clothed
in purple and fine linen . . . Luke 16:19

A sleeveless beauty flaunts her weather map,
Its precip, pressure, promised southern temps
And urgent winds, a quick barometer drop,
In pleated leather slacks, Versace pumps.
Bemoans the ad–attracting hurricane
And warns of puddle depth, a blackout, pleads
For bottled water, whistles, food, explains
That roads across the state are choked, the e–
Vac traffic up and down, and up and down
The coast exposed to lightning strikes and tides,
A threat of fire, floods, engorged ground —
Cry havoc! Oh, surging Category Five!
Now heading inland the storm abates and shrinks.
The weather woman blows her whistle, winks.