Drafts

Drafts

God started over too. 
Decided he would
Wipe everything out 
Save Noah, to whom 
He handed down
The blueprints for the ark
The waters that drowned 
The earth would lift,
That world the first 
Rough draft of a poem
From which the poet 
Manages to salvage 
One good line. 
Had you seen the earth 
From space then, 
You would have seen 
A whirling blue orb, 
A planet composed
Solely of water. 
Not even the peak
Of Everest could pierce 
The surface upon which 
A pitch-black ship drifted,
Sans sails, there being 
No destination,
The three decks colorful 
With every kind,
The lions drooling 
Into the wool of the lambs.
Maybe he should have 
Left it that way,
A perfect sphere 
Of water spinning
Around the sun, 
The ark an ossuary
Of delicate bones.