Author Topic: There was a Flood  (Read 427 times)

Offline AntonioM

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There was a Flood
« on: August 25, 2020, 08:39:28 PM »
Indeed, a flood,
rain, like I've never known,
cold, like I've never felt--
not all of me.

The water washed through my mother's things
wilting away, drawings and awards. . . letters,
love from a father to a boy, from a prison in Virginia,
can anyone read them to me?

I was not there to suffer the humiliating scene, our things. . .
it lingers above my brow, like overcast clouds and shadows, long after
the winds've changed. A temporary storage shed,
a watery grave of family photos, memories stamped
in imperfect inks, gone like all those Saturday mornings at home,
gone like those radio songs floating on, somewhere,
on the river of time,
with the rest of me,
and mom, and my little brothers.

Our survival guide, our cabbage-patched family,
papers missing. Oh, the way she smiled, back then.
We must be nearing the bend.

Offline Nora

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Re: There was a Flood
« Reply #1 on: September 09, 2020, 08:39:51 PM »
This poem certainly conveys the grief and devastation of losing everything in a flood. The letters from prison, the watery grave of family photos, everything gone on the river of time, it's all quite poignant, affecting, well done. But I don't understand what is humiliating about it, about losing everything in a natural disaster that you are not responsible for.