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Erin Donohue


Before the moustached policeman
marched towards us.
Before the helicopter landed and all the blades of grass
bowed before it.
Before the faraway sound of the
propellers made us all sit up
Before we dialled the emergency services but
couldn’t get through.
Before the water ran off us but the
desperation stuck.
Before the tears and
the one hundred river crossings and
the piggybacks along
flooded paths.
Before we even left the cabin that morning.
There was a rain so heavy it nearly washed away


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