Almost done with the report that is due tomorrow,

I back the truck out from the line of cars

parked between the auditorium and my office.

A few drops of light rain

speckle the sidewalks and windshield.

Out on 36,

I turn east in the darkness,

catch a break in the flood traffic.

After the river took charge three months ago

and closed the interstate that runs from Kansas City to Omaha,

traffic here jumped from seven thousand a day

to forty-four thousand.

Makes a bit of a difference

on how you make your way back home.

They say it will be over a year before repairs are made.

The waters ripped chunks

the size of houses out of highways,

washed away sections of road and bridge,

left small communities in shambles,

homes rotting like the flesh of memory.

But the pallid sturgeon

and sport fishing in Nebraska

had a fine spring

or so people say.

It is not that rare in this world

that those who reap the good

care little

for those from whose soil the seed was taken

or whose backs were broken carrying their load.

All of this–and more–

will one day

be

made

right.

H. Arnett

9/16/11