I’m too tired to write, ’cause I had a lie-in,
You might think that the two wouldn’t mix,
But after a weekend from Hell with the pond
I was ready for crossing the Styx.
There was panic on Saturday morning to start,
With my son calling up on the phone,
“You had better get down here, it’s emptied itself
And I can’t sort it out on my own.”
Now, on Friday I’d cleaned out the pond pump again
And the waterfall, just for good measure.
It’s not all that long since the filter was done,
We could do it again at our leisure.
But no, the pond emptied, the level went down
With the fish having no place to swim
Some two thousand gallons of water had gone,
Disappeared in thin air, on a whim.
The irises, big clumps as wide as a tree
Had all toppled and floated adrift…
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