I am ripples, motionless,
swamped by water, lifted by brother.
I am girl watching home wash
away again, again
Do you have a boat?
You are of no use to me.
I hover over flood
my only loves, our goat,
the bracelets of my grandmother,
now treasure of the force of nature.
I am homeless in the smoke-grey
of a greedy monsoon, dripping disaster.
Bring a boat.
I do not know the whereabouts of the rest.