print previewback EMILIA PHILLIPS
Diluvian
We waited in the ark’s
cabin, barrels
on the deck to collect
the long-withheld
rain. We listened to it
as if for a heartbeat
at a dead man’s chest.
And, finally, they came.
I could not
see them, and Noah
told me they weren’t
there, they weren’t—
but I could hear
their fists against
the hull, nails
ravaging the wood
like animal claws
before we were
lifted, the first swell
like a dizzy spell
when one stands up
too quick. And then
the rush caught
the whole and we were
carried forward. Noah said
some had found a way
to hold on but he beat
their fingers with a spare
plank until they let
go. I stayed
below as I was
told, sick rising
up like suspicion.
I slept when I wasn’t
retching, my dreams
full of lions
savaging their cubs. 
Antediluvian
Covenant
Diluvian
Postdiluvian