Guranowski
- Apr 5, 2020
- 1 min read

Water Dream

When I was a kid I dreamt of a flood, 
Of water that grew up from the ground
Not from a spout, a wave, or a tide
Just an arrival from some nowhere place
My friends and I climbed the playground
We scaled up the wobbly double-slide
While a cackling witch rowed past us
On a welded hinge raft of shacks and doors
Home and school were lost, replaced
By this newly neither fresh nor salt sea
The playground was surely soon to follow
How odd this was, not to be scared or confused
As we ascended what shrinking time we'd found 
And I thought: 'This is just the way things are.'

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