Home Beckons

My suntan fades away with each rain-drenched day
Days meant for baked beans, boat rides, and ball games
But swept away with muddy waters under dark grey skies.

Swollen creeks cough up their excess goods to the lowlands
While the mighty Susquehanna rises, rises, rises, rises
Paying no attention to the prayers lifted up for it to fall.

There may be summer days left for beans, boats, and balls
But those laid low by the raging waters will always remember
With sadness, awe and anger, like Hazel, Agnes, and Lee,
The Rains of August