Picnicing again all afternoon in the Elm Fork riverside park.
Homeward bound after a flash flooding thunderstorm just after dark.
Approaching the exit gate.
Noticing a curious couple in wet clothes but in an intense state.
Talking to each other as if we were not even there.
Anxiously moving away from the swollen Trinity River and mournfully shrieking, 'It's just not fair! '
Stopping later at the dimly lit spillway antiques store.
Meandering through old magazines as we did intermittently explore.
Absolutelly mystified by a tattered article we casually found.
Learning the wet couple had tried in vain to save US - as WE both had drown!
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem