Wash
by Stuart Stevens II

I empathize 

the river’s drought,

I’ve layen in bed

under heavy rain

overflown my 

banks awash

to fill a basement 

thick with rot, 

but then 

again

I’ve slept so thin

my brooks forgot

the whispered ways

I had wrought

through brambles,

twisted mass of root

and left me dry and

emptied too.