maelynslavik

it was like a sink that was overflowing, built up and up and up.

then it was drained; the pipes rusted over; the slight drip and drip and drip.

tantalizing.

then the water rushed like geysers do, hot and momentarily solid.

This is the first poem in my poetry anthology, The Sun Will Rise Again.

I was eight when it began.

I was left clinging to sunshine

As the sun descended below the horizon.