on the night of the supermoon


i lie awake and think about the flood.  it is happening all around me.  helicopters flying all night long, checking the levels of the glenmore reservoir. dreaming, jumbled images of war. soldiers advancing across dark fields, animals floating down bloated rivers.  there’s mud everywhere.  i can feel the mud clinging to my bared feet.  the helicopters flying all night long, checking the water levels behind my eyelids.  they’re barely holding back.  there’s a loss of life.  and the moon.  the moon is glowing.  the yard is bathed in amber light.