That’s where we met as the desks and beds rolled by as we sat on the roof.

The lives of others rolling by in the river.

We wated for help that never came.

Unless help was the drifitng that took us away .

Down the river.

There we went.

And here we are now.

A diaster pushed us together , then pushed us to the high water mark.

To a safe place.

And again we watch the refuse roll down the river; the wreckage after wreckage that wrecked up stream.

We look at it all float away and think “hmm.  there it goes.”

There it goes.

Here we stay.

Above disaster.

Below heaven.

The high ground that floats in the middle.

I think it’s okay to envy the destroyed, right?

To envy those who are being washed away.

Because away is somewhere.

Away could be anywhere.

But here is here.

We know what it is.

No mystery.

Above disaster.

Below heaven.

Waiting for either to rise or fall.