It is worth asking —
home, are you coming home?
The water — not you, not I — has returned
to its banks, no longer quick enough
to take a body.
A brackish heart is fickle, come on,
you can make it.
Let me hold you now,
the river has no hands.
Tag Archives: new poem – Before the Flood
Before the Flood (part vii)
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Before the Flood (part vi)
Where the river has receded
the land is bare —
the heart that is between goodbye
and hello-bright-thing
is brackish.
There is no sweet taste here
to remember you by, no
warmth to crawl into.
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Before the Flood (part v)
It is true —
a fox may gnaw its foot off
to survive a trap.
But you,
you saw nothing.
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Before the Flood (part iv)
And if seeping could be sudden
the brown of it seeped suddenly
into your bones.
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Before the Flood (part iii)
You were in the kitchen, baking.
In the distance, too far away to hear,
the river appeared, coursing through the fabric
of trees, down the middle of a country road.
Turning to your daughter, you leaned over,
burnt caramel on your lips,
and kissed her —
the very hint of bitter.
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Before the Flood (part ii)
It is worth remembering —
the drenchings in murraya scented breezes,
sunscreen lotion creaming the collar of your shirt.
In the dry season, the raw heat
of summer, that first downpour.
That first downpour, just when
the pollen starts to thicken.
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Before the Flood
I learned about rivers
by falling into,
exploring,
the depth of you.
There is rain coming:
town, country, city, seashore are at risk.
Seagulls are everywhere,
in the heart, in the heat
of night.
There is rain coming
and I must leave,
leave you before the flood.
* There are just a couple of days remaining to get behind the Ocean Hearted Flood Relief Appeal, so if you can, dig deep and spread the word…
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