Fifteen inches in less than a daze.
Ditches, ponds, coulees, and fields awash.
As in Noah’s day,
a swollen, sullen tide covers streets and fields:
The watery curse on a gray, fallen world spreads away.
Now the day after . . .
As His eye is on the sparrow,
So the Rosette Spoonbills,
Graceful birds who forage in pink
amid the bounty of nature’s flood.
Disaster to man, nurture to nature.
So despair not:
He who cares for the Rosette Spoonbill
cares for me
With grace deeper than the flood.