Another original poem for National Poetry Month! This week’s offering is a tale of my California childhood, back when the rain was plentiful enough that we’d often watch the winter river rising against the side of the levee.
Life on the Flood Plain Nestled in the south elbow of the levee we are sheltered from the river now swelling with melted snow as it zigzags through this valley like the roots of our apricot tree stretching into the lawn. Forced from a sandy burrow by rising water a lone jack rabbit his ears a brown exclamation point careens from street to sidewalk seeking a shelter amid juniper bushes and moss where Saint Francis extends a granite hand beckoning sparrows to lunch on discarded bread crust Mom trimmed from our toast. Inside two cats lounge on a plastic table cloth black limbs curled lazily around an African violet in a clay pot and human babies resolve to live forever on Mom’s cookie dough and duets Dad sings with the dog. Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash
2 thoughts on “Life on the Flood Plain”
Cats tails around African violets. Living forever on cookie dough. Dad duet with dog. River rising. St Francis concrete hand.
Such lovely homelike images. It feels warm in this house on the Sacramento River. Yet always aware that the river can over flow and flood us out of our coziness as it has of late.
Thanks, Nancy! So happy you enjoyed it!