Fuck the atmospheric rivers

A neighbor called on New Years Eve 

and asked if we were OK

We turned around from a road trip

There was a river running through our house

Baby bottles, old computer keyboards,

Pool table,sofas, appliances,

“Indian clothes” that we rarely wore

Now covered with dirt and useless

The kids say they miss the turf and tvs the most

We can get those back, I tell them

The cheap labor we hired to haul away the debris

Laugh and Joke among themselves

Its a good payday for them

Its all “Maya”, an illusion anyway

According to our spritual ancestors

But some are more capable of Zen, than others

Was this Nature’s way to get rid of our “stuff”?

Things we would never use and yet, never let go

The 150 yr oak tree in our yard still stands

A neighbor brings a pumkin pie

There is hope

There has to be