The Leak

On a dimming autumn day
A leak sprang forth.
The beings gathered and whispered.

It was decided that a sheet
Of cloth gummed up with
Free radicals would desiccate
The tear – was it a tear?

There was fluid flowing,
But the origin could not be determined.
All that was known
Was that it was coming, coming.

The bats were swooping
And the opossums were hissing
Through their gutter gates – the light
Was trickling out of the siding.

Now the group of beings gasped.
The leak was getting bigger, darker.
It was spraying in every direction.

Lead was smelted, rough-hewn boards
Were tacked, loaves of bread brokered,
But when they stood back, exhausted,
They knew nothing would do.

All that was left before they drown
Was to pull on their brown hoods
And solemnly disappear into the night
Just as the icicles were forming
On the eyelids of the young.