February filldyke has done it again,
It has rained, rained, rained and rained,
Filled every ditch,
brook, runnel and drain.
Now March marches
in
Like a muddy-booted
soldier
Squishing through
swamp,
As the year gets
older.
Feb’s aways wet,
but this filled the pail,
It drenched, poured,
showered and drizzled,
It just wouldn’t stop.
It will turn the
entire island
Into one blanket
bog.
Soaked soil will
rise up,
Buildings, trees
and towers will fall,
Roads become rivers,
Sphagnum moss cover
all.
Bog cotton will
wave,
Where cities once
were.
This may sound fantastic,
But it has happened
before.
The future is
amphibian,
As any frog knows,
So, we’ve just got
to grow
Webs between our
toes.
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