The Great Flood

This is how I remember it…

On the roof in our pyjamas. Men in boats
bobbing about below us, shouting
“Don’t worry. You won’t drown.
We’ll soon have you down.”

We had some protection against the rain.
Mum had rescued our coats
and Dad held up a big umbrella.
A golfing umbrella. He never played golf.

I was six or seven, I think.
My sister, maybe nine?
She was crying because I had my teddy
and she was saying, “I want mine.”

I think we were taken to the church hall.
It was on higher ground. I don’t recall
being scared. It was an adventure
and Mum and Dad were there.

I should talk to my sister about it.
Perhaps she would tell a different story.