Yesterday the fill-well, drain-fill rainfall fell all day, with fat drops <br />That bullied full gullies at the roadside, as the road sighed, to run deep <br />And rough-pummelled the runnels to funnel the washed trash <br />From storm-swill swept sundry muck, stones and mixed grit <br />As dull grey as scud-clouds and as crud-brown as dun cows, <br />To run down in glum abundance, a turd-tide, on the kerbside <br />To shutter sludge past gutters and blocked drainholes with silt filth <br />As the mud rush slopped dollop over dollop, grudged its flood gunge <br />To the bottom of the steep slope by the mill-bridge till it could plunge, <br />A deep tea-tinted slop-fall of a waterfall through the chopped gap <br />In the grey gritstone bridge-bones to the hectic running wet beck <br />That fleck-foamed with the mad rush of soft moorland marsh mud <br />Mixed with grey mush which slush-gushed where sharp showers flushed dust. <br />But today, today, scowling foul clouds loured moodily subdued sad grey <br />Since they were not the matt black that yesterday sapped the soul’s joy <br />And today, today the drizzle snivelled for a while then slunk away silenced <br />Abashed it could not match that full-on fall-down flood-town, gone now, <br />Rain of yesterday, that pounded with summer thunderstorms our drowned town.<br /><br />C Richard Miles<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/flood-pushed-mud-rush/
