Poetry Friday: "Water" (an ode to the recent sump pump failure)

Welcome to the "Drying Out the Basement" edition of Poetry Friday. 

Do you have a sump pump? Do you know what happens when your sump pump malfunctions during an extremely rainy April? I hope you don't know. I hope you never know. 

On the other hand, this recent incident could be considered child's play compared to some of my past dances with water. 

My first experience with flooding — later dubbed "The Great Flood" of Fairbanks, Alaska — was when I was seven years old. My father was stationed there and we were living temporarily in a basement apartment until base housing became available. After heavy summer rains, the Chena River overflowed. Our entire apartment filled with water. This is how we left the apartment complex: 

I don't remember the three nice men who whisked us away, but the other occupants of the boat were my mom (holding my little brother), me (pointing at something), and my sister (waving). 

Here are a couple of photos of the aftermath as the flood waters were starting to recede. (Don't worry about that hair! It's just my mother's wig!) 

Given that I have this joyous little occasion on my flood resume, I suppose our recent experience barely rates a mention. No boats were needed in our basement the night the water came in, though at times it felt like a raft might come in handy. (I exaggerate. A little. There was much bailing of water.) Still, I don't recommend losing a sump pump. It's been a long, messy, stressful time. 

Oh, water! The gift that sometimes feels like a curse. Ralph Waldo Emerson understood it so well. 

Water

by Ralph Waldo Emerson 

The water understands
Civilization well;
It wets my foot, but prettily,
It chills my life, but wittily,
It is not disconcerted,
It is not broken-hearted:
Well used, it decketh joy,
Adorneth, doubleth joy:
Ill used, it will destroy,
In perfect time and measure

With a face of golden pleasure
Elegantly destroy.

~~~~~~~~~~

The lovely and incomparable Linda Mitchell has the round-up at A Word Edgewise.