Near Walton Cardiff
Rain has fallen hard up-country
and here the water is rising as we watch.
The by-pass is a causeway, puddled
and plumed by spray.
On either side, grey as pewter
a broad lake forms, flat and still.
Roiling clouds reflect in it.
The water is consuming, slow and greedy.
It fills the walkway, turns the green fields
into a broken mirror. Swollen by relentless rain
nature's alchemy transmutes
from gleaming green to reflected sky.
We cannot see the ground or judge depth.
Walton Cardiff stands like an island.
Children dip their toes in the rising moat
fearful and laughing.
Mud spoils the builders' plans.
They are into penalty now.
Folly on the flood plain.
People fill the corner shop expecting siege.
We, in trepidation, watch the weather
and wait.
Page(s) 18
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