The Floods
A poem of words and waters
The rain
Fell down my window
The sky
Came crashing down
And then
There was nothing to replace
The emptiness
That we had found
The antler
On the reindeer
And the
Wing of the sparrow
Have broke
Gone with the rest of them
In a wash
And a flood of sorrow
They nicked
At the tops of trees
Nailed in
New clouds to the sky
Pushed us
Off the edges of cliffs
And hoped
That we would fly
They thought
The change would help us
We went
And proved them wrong
So we’re
Stuck here in frail time
Singing
Our tuneless songs
The floods
Came again from blanks and banks
Stealing
Our make-shift lives
The seas
They washed up a madman
Plundering
Our world with knives
Is there
Order in the empty?
Is there
Any kind of law?
Soon we
Killed the madman
We didn’t
Want to fight anymore
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