A FLOOD

 

 

One day he was driving to school

when he suddenly started laughing.

He couldn’t have told you

why he was laughing.

The daylight along the fields

wasn’t especially amusing,

nor was the wind

among the limbs of trees.

True, he had been talking to himself –

small sentences

that might become parts of poems –

but the sentences

weren’t even worth smiling about.

Still, there he was,

moving along Main Street

in a car filling up with laughter.

Oddly, it filled so full

that the laughter finally

flowed out the window

and followed a wind over a field

far from his school.