Water Rising

Muddy water is lapping at my door.
The turtle that supports the earth
must be awake and swimming.

My house appears to be rising,
but does not yet float.
Cracks are beginning to appear.
I move to attic, then to roof.

It’s true I know how to swim,
but could not swim long
and have nowhere I can swim to.
Since I have no boat,
drowning is my greatest fear.

Now a snake has taken refuge aboard,
a dog that barks
and, most surprising,
a chicken.

My roof is a Noah’s ark.

But it’s not by twos creatures come.
Each comes alone
as I am
and I’m not Noah.

I have neither raven nor dove.

What is left is love
and hope for all living creatures,
a cloudless sky,
a hilltop, and a burning sun.

I keep out an eye for a rainbow.