We Rue the Day
Before the river rose we cared.
We cared about the curious bend in the river
Where we skied at dusk on Saturdays.
We cared about boat rides
At the crest of dawn and how
A sun can rise imperceptibly
Then take over the sky.
It was if that same sun dropped
In the muddy river spilling over
Rising to the tin on roof tops
Scorched by noon’s heat.
We worry more now about submerged cars
About water more polluted than air
Mud and mildew no amount of Clorox negates
Cattle that never knew their intention.
We don’t think of the joys of the river anymore.
We think how it ruined us.
How we rue the day the river rose.
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Author:
Katie B. (
Offline) - Published: December 14th, 2025 05:36
- Comment from author about the poem: A flood in a small town.
- Category: Short story
- Views: 2
Offline)
Comments1
Beauty turned ruin and the thoughts that accompany it from splendor to slime. They say we are only as good as the last thing we do and so it is with the river too. A lovely write Katie that carries with it a darkness and depressive air that settles heavy on the heart.
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