A spell to call down rain.

A chant to stop the flood.

 

We’d been warned

about the current

where the hole

in the river swirled.

 

When arms churn

through water, we think

there’s a shore

to swim toward.

 

A thousand years from now

they’ll chip at layers of time

hidden in mud.

 

This will reveal how

our hands held the heads

of so many

beneath the waves.