The Water-Level

Now the ground-water has reached its zenith,
and the oppressive seeds have been dispersed, far
from their place of birth, migrant seeds to migrant lands
splayed from their intended path, yet settle and manage
as they can.

The water-level consumes houses,
which become boats, treading in shallow waters,
attempting to support life, to be of some solid use,
silently life adapts, bolts itself magnetically,
so that nothing changes, everything moored
and secured.

Soon, I will leave here, and seek
out the sea. The inland waterways are not for me,
never were. But here, inland, did I seek you.
Or rather, I imagined you seeking yourself.
In many ways I thought I was there,
but that was earlier,
in my youth.