flood 2 – Duncan Richardson

morning
the brown tide is still
and now perfectly reflects
the walls and windows
that let it seep
and sidle
into rooms
into dreams
reflecting also
its casual cargo
plastic bottles
grass cuttings
polystyrene
and trickles
fingerprints
of clay

the water is thick skinned
time walks on it
like a strider
barely denting
the meniscus

and even when it’s gone
it’s cool touch
will always
remain