Flood Poem by Eliza Griswold

Flood

Rating: 5.0


I woke to a voice within the room. perhaps.
The room itself: "You're wasting this life
expecting disappointment."
I packed my bag in the night
and peered in its leather belly
to count the essentials.
Nothing is essential.
To the east, the flood has begun.
Men call to each other on the water
for the comfort of voices.
Love surprises us.
It ends.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Kelly Kurt 29 June 2015

A terse but poignant piece, Eliza Thanks for sharing

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Edward Kofi Louis 29 June 2015

Love surprises us! Nice work.

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