After a Heavy Rainfall
Banks did not burst,
just a full bladder of river leaking
into our back yards.
It drooled over
the low steps of high roots,
into groundhog holes,
into the ditches where winter debris
had already washed-up.
As the water inched
we made phone calls to each other,
imaginations spilling over
into memories of past inundations.
Some put on rubber boots
and armed with brooms
swept the ripples away.
Biblical deluges were discussed.
Will the garden ornaments rust?
We watched sparrows bathing.
No geese or ducks landed.
Nothing sailed off over the fields.
A damp sulky cat
was retrieved from a puddle.
The mail was cataclysmically late.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2020
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