The Gates

Opened all the gates on the dam
and still the water rose. This is control
but with so much rain at once,
you do what you can.
The people drove through water
like a dream, wheels spinning
and not a bit of gold from straw.
The phones went off, alarms in unison

even when on silent, and the students
raised their eyes to each other,
unsure what they should do
or if they’d catch hell from the teacher
for the emergency alert they couldn’t control.
But her phone had gone off, too.
The school with its flat roof
bore the added weight

as did the forest crown. The roots
took all the water that they could.
The rest ran down, rocks swept along.
The corps assured the press
they were monitoring the flow.
The spillways wore thick lace
as old gowns women once had to wear
to cover their bodies neck to toe.