After the Flood

There is a small stream that runs at the edge of my backyard. Usually it is about three feet wide and maybe two feet deep, now it's more like sixty feet wide and deeper than the top of my wellies.

Where there isn't water there is mud.

my kids could almost slide into the water.

But we are lucky, our basement stayed dry, nothing was really damaged, so many people here have lost everything.

It’s raining it’s pouring
the town is in mourning
the water rose past our toes
and the dams are overflowing

the old man is snoring
after heeding the warning
he spent the day floating away
away from the storming

He went to bed his dreams all fled
grateful to rest his weary head
at least until the morning.