River at Wylam

 

Paused amid trail of cars on bridge,

Engine tamely thrums in neutral;

Atmosphere drained, heavy with threat

After torrential mornings rain.

Swollen, bulging mocha water

Gnashes with vicious abandon

At stone piers, trapped by foaming murk.

Shuddering, I count the seconds

Till I am planted back on less

Gravity defying surface.

Footpath drowns as giant meniscus,

Bloated with surplus storm water

Engulfs mudded, sloping bank sides.

Fencepost snatched into boiling swell;

Matchstick marionette captured

In cream topped, foaming rabid churn;

Swept along with the excess rain,

Dragged and gargled in undertow -

Disgorged on rock trapped driftwood pile.

Cormorant scarecrow silhouette,

Tattered spectre clinging to rock -

Inky feather tips mimicking

Wind shredded, branch snagged black bin bag.

Risen water roars, and I build

A Noah’s Ark inside my head.

I don’t think of those I would save -

Instead, I draw up the plank and

Wave at those I would leave behind.