skip a beet

Didn't skip a beet

Along a once trickling creek
Now rush remnants
Of Colorado’s worst flooding.

Colorado is not a place where
We have water or flooding
It’s a highland desert

Yet here it is
Forming into vile sediment
remains of all that
We once believed to be true

Bits of cloth, spruce, bedding, couches,
Cabins, crops, trailers, tires,
Campers, tents, sewage, asphalt, shoes

Finding their way down 400 miles
Of waterways to slide by the
Where gleaming trucks haul sugar beets
From far away fields
Great square clumps of dried clay
Clinging to odd shaped beets.

It was my arch nemeses
The sturdy, soil-holding sugar beet
smoldering sugar factory towers
That kept flood waters from
My house.

A canopy of
Two hundred year old
Cottonwood trees
Unmoved by yet another flood
Cradle mucky, oily waters:

Slowly now
move along
be still now
quiet now
The worst is over.

I watch leaves mixed with
scraps of dollar bills
at the diversion dam




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