The prose whispers itself into poetry. A sail boat becomes a “ diversion of cloth, wind and wood”. The sunset & the flood waters that have obliterated all become “The shimmering green- gray-blue terror. Orange in the evening then gone.” Every sail boat & every waterview sunset are just those things. That‘s all the new mother can absorb so that‘s all the text there is. After the flood, everything is subtextual, subliminal, submerged. Ambitious!