___________________the rain stopped.
TV flickered a battened airport,
broken roadway, swirling cars.
Ten-inches of rain in a two-year drought—
Trinity a moiled, muddy Mississippi.
Our clamoring phone became
an oracle for confusion: words
washed over us—waters
through a floodgate. Directives,
diagnoses, prognoses built,
crested, tumbled. News
never current. Nothing to be done
from half a continent away.
We wrapped ourselves in the mundane:
gassed car, kenneled dog, stopped mail.
We packed no dark clothing
(dare not tempt the gods)
Eyes burned fever-bright.
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