How did you fair

How did you fair

In the aftermath

When the rains eased

The needle point of ice cold

Drizzle finally drying up

The scars of nature

Wrought upon a landscape

In need of healing

Windswept, unkempt moorland

With nary a homestead standing

Broken roofs with rotten planks

That once were floors

Sodden and splintered

Barely safe enough for insects

It was not the end of days

As we are here,

You and I, still standing

There was no trumpet sound

Or band of angels dispensing

Summary execution

As a feudal judgement

On the worth of simple souls

Golden gates were not flung wide

The bugle sounding last post

Was a throwback

To a commemoration

Radios still play

Even on a Sunday

It was never retribution

For not listening

Even though the righteous

Would have it so

Repentance is another word

For making amends

Flood defences are a bit like that

Put a little bit aside

Save it for a rainy day

It is likely

Another one will come along

Tomorrow.