River Rise

I watched the river rise
and in its flow I saw,
the depth of natures glory
and her scathing violent flaw.

I watched the river rise,
it's gloating ripples fast,
encroaching, stultifying -
engorging what was past.

I watched the river rise.
My heart? It did but still
and fret within these caged ribs
for what lay sleepless nights until.

I watched the river rise
and gathering every wit
I ascertained its victory march
upon the Walmer gauge - ill lit.

I watched the river rise
and cowered, shrinking, as the streets
vomited black water forth
under wheels and sand and feet.

I watched the river rise.
These neighbours alive and well,
who in rescue came their remedy;
thus, our commune's heart did swell.

I watched the river rise.
Palpable and fierce -
the terror of its importune,
our collective labours pierced.

I watched the river rise.
Sense and sensing, emoting strong,
such wily fear with hospitality merged
to buffet that watery throng.

I watched the river rise
and in its wake appends
the rise of a large and kinder beast -
our community more strongly wends.

M. Pitman
January 2011
Wimmera, Victoria Floods