Flood

The water rose further
up the trunk of the tree
then entered the house.
The water put out feelers
as it slid slowly over the floor.
It tasted the furniture,
tentatively licking
the legs of tables and chairs.
The water´s dark hand,
climbed the walls and curtains
and they felt its pressure.

In the afternoon a pale light
penetrated the window,
glazing the silent surface
of the water in the living-room.

By four o´clock books and lampshades
were floating out through the door.
By six the flow dragged pictures off the wall.
The night was disturbed by cracks 
and groans and later by crashes.
First light showed the debris drifting away.

When the waters fell the land was bare.
By the time he was old and almost blind
he had difficulty remembering
if anything was ever built there.



Mike