The Flood

Inundating, binging, the muddy, bulimic river gorged the flood plain, consuming everything that wasn’t nailed down: tree limbs, leaves, bleating sheep, chicken coups, plastic grocery bags, inner tubes, cesspit contents, only to vomit it back up to its torrential torrent surface. Helpless victims stand the high ground with a wing and prayer their homes be spared the wrath of God knowing only too well that the laws of nature… have no favorites.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

Poem

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A  Avatar
July 7, 2015 at 1:20 PM
ALBERT, this is a wonderful write. Enjoyed dropping by to read. Love SKAT
Ahearn Avatar
July 7, 2015 at 5:12 PM
I'm so glad you think so. Thanks again for commenting.
Adams Avatar
July 5, 2015 at 5:37 AM
An accurate picture of the destruction and devastation a flood brings, and our helplessness against it.
Ahearn Avatar
July 6, 2015 at 3:39 AM
Victims hope against hope, a useless virtue. At best, it makes them feel better.
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