We went to my friend’s lake house
hoping the water was still up to the dock.
It was, but mud ran alongside the pilings,
made it look like a construction site,
with bottles, cans, and one boot
of a sort fashionable among young girls
Or as if the land was creeping back
to reclaim its own, after
the Hydroelectric Act of 1939
or whatever thing the legislature enacted
between dime-cigar bets and happy girls
flooded the land between two counties
mocking that part of creation where
dry land divided the waters and it was good
but it was also good to get out
on a boat and see the pine trees whizz by
like a flooded out interstate,
or Venice writ large and southern-style.
My friend pointed out trees
hanging on to dry land
roots leached out of the water
like receding gums,
or an uprising.
written in response to a dVerse prompt.
ha…at the cove nearby we have similar trees whose roots leach out into the lake…an uprising…smiles…the allusion to venice southern style is really cool too gary…a bit sad on the trash by the pilings….
ha…at the cove nearby we have similar trees whose roots leach out into the lake…an uprising…smiles…the allusion to venice southern style is really cool too gary…a bit sad on the trash by the pilings….there is a story in that one shoe too, i know it…
I guess we’re waiting for the other shoe to drop…
Wonderfully vvivvid images, especially towards the end–the gums and uprising. Very original poem. I’ve been to places like this, especially in Indai–a terrible sadness about drought conditions. Thanks. k.
I like your transitions through time here. The boots, the Hydroelectric Act, and the way the land has been changed by water. Strong poem.
i like how you describe the scene and the land crawling back to reclaim its own – ugly when all the litter comes with the flood..ugh… i also like how you blend in different years and connect it with this
it never rains but it pours or something? – but the poem is beautiful, striking in its language, images…
Thanks for all the comments! It’s really helpful to know what works.
Times change …but memories never