Do you remember Irene?

Do you remember when Irene came?
You reminded me of my silliness
and played music with your friends until late.
When it was time to go home,
we drove through slight flooding
and parked the van out in front of the house.
The power was out so we just sat there,
each of us drank a beer,
we listened to the radio, the wind,
 we spoke to each other.

I'll never forget the frogs, the toads?
They made that unbelievable noise,
the one that got us out of the van
and into the flooded streets
up to our knees in rain water and mating frogs
I couldn't believe it was real
and so beautiful.

I remember putting my boots on and
walking through the river in the woods
it was late, we had flashlights,
and I was utterly terrified
but we were doing it together
and no one else had wanted to come with us.
I couldn't back down on you
and eventually
you realized
we should stop.

We caught an eel in the street,
kept him in a Mason jar on the dresser
He was there for such a long time
Maybe it was only a few days.
But there he stayed with all of the tadpoles
the result of the symphony in the driveway.
Eventually, they all died.
Though I don't remember how long it took,
cups and jars emptied
until there was one left
and then
none.

Now you don't speak to either of us
and the hurricanes demolish everything.
It isn't a joke anymore
but really that's all it's become.
You don't have the time
or the space on your dresser,
in your heart,
your head,
in your life.

I remember Irene
I remember how sad it was
that the bridges had broken.
It's so much sadder though
when they're burned.