The Twenty-Ninth of August

the images are flashing by
they stream on my computer screen
while TV too, plays out the scene
and rain keeps falling from the sky

while people stare and wonder why
Mother Nature must be so mean
a hurricane they named “Irene”
still rivers rise and people die

as trees uproot, their branches fly
a gentle brook, once so serene
now cuts an angry, wide ravine
all I can do is just stand by

the bridges that once stood so high
made crossing rivers so routine
as crumbling banks and rocks careen
then disappear before my eye

I just watch and testify
water levels we’ve never seen
churning like a mad machine
go find a place that’s safe and dry