They are flushing the hydrants today
Splashing giant rainbows in the spring air.
You cannot escape the sound of water.
Outside the Middle School is a great lake
Where the drains are plugged. Two young boys are there
Staring intently like they are asking
What will be left when the waters recede?
On the radio they are talking to
Farmers in the Mississippi delta,
Poor folk in poor houses, watching the floods
Rising and talking about faith in God
And how they don’t have the money to move,
While engineers are playing Morton’s Fork
Between the devil and the deep blue sea
And admitting that no one really knows
What will be left when the waters recede.
The boys lose interest and wander away
To dig in the sand of the ball diamond.
I change stations and hear an old preacher
Talking about God shutting Noah in
The Ark. And I think, Good for Noah, but
What about the rest of us? Does he want
What will be left when the waters recede?
Penguin Poems 
The simplicity of the language and the setting up of the last line by the two earlier repetitions work so well. A finely made poem, this.
Fine piece. Just to let you know, your URL/link was incorrect, which is why no comment via d'Verse. I've edited it now and informed Avril who is critiquing this one. Looks good, AndrewregardsLuke