Cosmic Bashings

In spring one night the dam on Lawn Lake blew.
Our desperate sand bags could not stem the tide.
The current by our make shift work pushed through
And all collapsed despite how hard we tried.

At mass that week the congregation prayed
For poor lost souls who in the torrent died.
No difference in how our plans were laid,
With nothing left to do, I sat and cried.

Succeeding years pulled out some other rugs
From underneath my firmly planted legs,
And Hazard, like some adolescent thugs,
Took all my hopes and left me with its dregs.

These Cosmic Bashings hit me in the face
And all that's left is love - a trace.

--James D. Starkey