And the siren sang
And the day began
And the willows bent
And all hope fell

The driving rain fulfilled the forecast
Forty days of flood predicted
A world, while prepared
Shocked at destruction’s inevitability

But Bill had decided, weeks past
His oceanfront cottage
Was as good a place to die
As any other

He’d wait out the storm
Four days or forty
The siren wailed on
Bill gazed out at the watery wall
And smiled