Flood

it ain't pretty

turning stones

in a sunless chasm

an echo screams

these white walls roar of urgency

as instincts scramble to escape a fatal pause

frenzy marked in deep breaths

tears plead to the night  

as her heart sinks in surging waters

 

winter hasn't been kind  

futile fingers obsess on the peeling paint

of her sinking home

rusted tractors dormant in the field

where the night worries

and the sunrise breaks promises

she feels it slip , and watches helpless

dreams slide under the flood

 

and here ..

from the high ground  

isolated inverted islands

dot these still rising waters

where from concrete shores

dories carry goddesses

a sacrifice to the sea

to learn to breathe under water

Reviews

[TAO]

Awesome. You know, this caused so many images to flash through my mind. I started thinking about hurricanes...then oddly enough, the little mermaid (kill me, please!). Then, manatees and pirates who thought they were mermaids, and how close they've gotten to extinction...

It ain't pretty, but the flow, and the words, are. Nice work.

[Alicante lullaby]

this kind of reminded of Aphrodite's statue when they offered her to sea..

[Crowley]

Great write...makes me feel like I'm watching Mel Gibson and Sissy Spacek fill sand bags in futility.....loved this.