This is a poem by Lois Marie Harrod.
The way it overtook him, late water
and early insignificance, he was stuck
in his old Ford and the old Ford
was rushing with the torrent
down Main Street, should he
roll the window up or leave it down?
Young firemen flooded
towards him in a rubber raft, chest deep.
He tried to breathe, but his body
felt one car wreck, then another.
Outages expected. Wind gusting.
Doesn’t remember much else.
Afterwards he said, I kept worrying
about my new sneakers.
Lois Marie Harrod’s 17th collection Woman is forthcoming from Blue Lyra in February 2020. Her Nightmares of the Minor Poet appeared in June 2016 from Five Oaks; her chapbook And She Took the Heart appeared in January 2016; Fragments from the Biography of Nemesis (Cherry Grove Press) and the chapbook How Marlene Mae Longs for Truth (Dancing Girl Press) appeared in 2013. A Dodge poet, she is published in literary journals and online ezines from American Poetry Review to Zone 3. She teaches at the Evergreen Forum in Princeton and at The College of New Jersey. Link to her online work is found on www.loismarieharrod.org.