One little poem

Flood – by Kilmeny MacMichael

Third day at the Catholic church yard

water is running freely

across the pavement into the sewer grate

unchecked abundance from the irrigation nozzle

which must be stuck

aimed at that fir tree that shades nothing

from the corner

it will not go down when I wiggle the nozzle

when the priest next comes will he notice

will he think first of water bills

or will he think of miracles?