The rafters don’t stand a chance
The ducks like it just fine.
When the drought hits
And levels dip
The tubers don’t have time
To wait for the rains
When the sun peeks out
And never mind swimmers
As parents shout
(Waders are just as hard to find).
Gone are the days when the river was dredged
Each flood adds more to the ever present sludge.
Yet one of these day (or years, to be fair)
The banks you see now
Probably won’t be there.