Daydreaming about Kentucky Flooding
by Erin Carlyle
Kentucky is flooding, and I am not
there to see it or save it, but I hear
it: What should we do about the water
circling the base of the trees,
and then creeping up to cover the mouth
of the cave? I still remember female cardinals
in the morning when it used
to snow, their orange and brown
feathers impressive against the white,
and I remember the hidden cave
in my neighbor’s backyard, at night,
my dad crept inside while I watched
the dark close in
on him—pin prick in my view.