As it’s World Poetry Day today, I thought I’d share my latest poem inspired by a title suggestion from last week’s ‘Write on the Night’ at my local Writers’ group. The title ‘The Water Poured Through’ made me think of raining seeping through a broken roof and gradually leaking down into the attic and then into the home. I wanted the water to continue on to the neighbours underneath as if to suggest that a problem will eventually affect others if left untreated.
The Water Poured Through
From clouds burdened with grey,
onto tiles of tattered slate,
between careless cracks and fractures,
the water poured through.
Dripping, trickling, dribbling.
Over prized memories and times forgotten,
down the sides of cardboard caskets,
deep into the wooden bones beneath them,
the water poured through.
Seeping, leaking, soaking.
From the ceiling a spreading pool,
above our awaiting hapless heads,
came the deluge into our once refuge;
the water had poured through.
Drenching, flooding, drowning.
Underneath our saddened, sodden soles,
through the carpet fibres, seeping – bleeding,
onto the shoulders of our neighbours,
the water kept pouring through.
Mikaela Walker - Writer 