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Flooded Basement Poem


I crawl on hands and knees,

Looking under furniture,

Turning up corners

Of yesterday’s carpet.

Walls rush in

and doors slam shut,

encapsulating me

With what I cannot find,

A little peace, one drop of joy,

The recollection of relevance.





Once again the bent back,

Hands guiding a rubber suction hose

Over a flooded basement floor

Six times in one week,

And threats of further storms to come.

Bucket after bucket of muddy water

Hoisted up to the great outdoors,

Where blue skies have turned grey

And green grass is flecked with mud.

Bail, bail both night and day.

Oh,but to abandon “house”,

And let the water have its way.

Poems by Linda Straub

Copyright June 2015