Ponds, rellies and makeshift tools

Reading my brother-in-law's facebook post about the weather and garden flooding from the perspective of an everyday family situation (and some DIY), I was taken by its almost prose-poetry style and the trio of trios found within. With his permission I edited it into verse form.

In threes

As I brush my teeth,
I look out of the bathroom window
then go back to the sink
as the minty foam is on the point of escape.

I've not been down to the bottom of the garden for quite a few days
but the silver of the sun-lit ponds seems to have become bigger.
Tom (my youngest son), Dad and I go down to check –
the top pond has burst its banks
and there is a stream running over the top of the dam
into the second
and leaking
into
the third,
and
out again –
water,
water everywhere.

The overflow for the top pond is easily unblocked –
the water flows freely,
whooshing straight into the other two ponds.
Also blocked,
the overflow pipe for the third pond is twenty feet long.
The longest things we can find –
a special spade,
a handle for something,
a stick,
are taped together
and we fight our way through the undergrowth,
bloody brambles, sodding holly,
into the stream below.

We feed in the long, unwieldy thing,
push-pull, push-pull,
then more whooshing –
on reflection,
it would have been more sensible
to unblock the lowest pipe first.