After the Flood

After the Flood there you sit
next to the boat, the fish
gasping for air, the hare finding
nothing to eat yet and all the birds

left behind. There you sit
in the same skirt in which, waters ago,
you boarded the ship, but the dance
has drained from your feet. For once the rain

blew over at last, the water
was lulled mirror-smooth, you saw

your world turned upside down and lower still
any movement stalled for good and
when you took a better look that too
that image stayed with you and how

with each glance your essence
lost more depth. Now you sit,
...