Sunday, August 19, 2018



Suddenly, the world is water.
The air is displaced by liquid
and we are breathing rain.

I am warm yet saturated,
dripping and sweating.
My shoes, two sponges.
I am thankful that I have skin
to keep out the water that
is trying to get in,
beating insistently on my human surface
like photons from a sun.

In thirty minutes there are floods,
streams, where before there were none.
The roads are now rivers,
flowing with currents and tides;
a torrent that wants to eat
everything in its path. 
This dry place, unused to such
a deluge, cannot cope
with an assault like this.

The water knows that it only 
has the run of the place for 
a few hours,
and so runs wild,
like a child in a toyshop,
aware that it could be months
before it is allowed back 
to this parched land.