by Tiffany Liles

Created on: April 17, 2009   Last Updated: July 25, 2009

The Flood

The sun is shining and yet it comes,
Dark and dank it brings,
Forth the clay and sand,
To cover human things.

Reaching, climbing, lapping, rising
Higher and higher still,
Wizened bearded trees stand impassive,
Unfazed by the destructive will.

And yet though move we must,
Away from the darkening tide
There is a small dart of hope
That it will soon subside.

For now our homes stand empty
Our hope battling fear,
The river waits for nothing,
For it holds nothing dear.

The waters swiftly running do rise,
Tonight, today, right now,
It creeps forth as even we
Watch with furrowed brow.

The crest is coming and then
Softly will it fade,
Without complaint back
Into the path it made.

Before returning to the banks
That guide it to the sea,
The river covers all with silt and sand
Lining homes with its debris.

A last fierce attempt it will make
To remind us every hour,
That even when it flows gently past
The river is full of power.

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