The swiftly rushing current betokens something tragic—
a cavity within my heart where before there was magic.
Your piano floats on by, sounding its last chord—
that last note of “Fur Elise” before the waters roared.
Vestiges of dinner float by on their raft
of our dining table, candelabra fore and aft,
sinking to the current. Now the dishes follow after.
The whole house now floats away–floor and walls and rafter.
All flooding away from me, left here to remember
a roaring fire dampened down to one last dying ember.
The first to go, you pulled our world after you as well.—
our music now extinguished by your funeral knell.
Lest you worry–Dolly, Sam, Cee and others who always ask–this poem is an amalgam of many past memories: the death of a loved one, the two big floods here, a recent phone call with a friend who has just lost her husband. The memories are all scrambled. Fiction based on past facts and mixed together into a poem.