Sewage bubbled up in the sink.
Rain swelled the stars.
You sailed against the current ’til it turned you.

Eden’s broken snake road a pennant.
The black water surged over a stripped body.
You grounded upon a submerged dump truck.

Was this destruction a great disaster
or a heavenly cleansing?
You wandered into the village church.

Only the priest prayed.
Everyone else was too cold and weary to speak.
You leaned against a wall.

Under a stain glass parable
the wind roared through gaps in the leading.
You heard the church bell toll un-pulled.

copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney


The ocean rose during the night.
More than high tide.
More than storm tossed.

It flowed through the first floors
of beach front houses
and unintentionally set two on fire.

It took wharf planks out to sea
for wayward gulls to land on
and curious dolphins to nudge.

The ocean went back down by morning
but left salty puddles
where the depressed land kept souvenirs.

An attempt to get over a little hump.
A new stretching practice.
Like Yoga. But for oceans.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney