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I am walking by the Sudbury River, nine days
rain, and I have become the river. My waters
are rising, rivulets begin to rush, marshes
fill to the brim, sweat starts to pour from me,
and tears seep from the corners of my eyes.
Iraq, lies, manipulations, deceptions, demogoguery,
deceit, hurricanes, tsunami, earthquakes–these
drive against the window of my skull like last Friday's
rain. The storm surge is topping my levees. My barrier
beaches are overwhelmed.
Five years into the new millennium,
and I am soaked.
October 28, 2005