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.