***

At once I call the plumbers who plumbed here in days past

To my surprise the call is answered by a human man,

who soon agrees to come, will come that afternoon,

though not sure when, but not in next two hours

And they will telephone before they come

So he agrees that I can leave, first time in seven days,

and so I do, to get some food, to lose some woe,

to see . . . something beyond my spreading swamp

(though somehow swamp stays close, and even grows,

inside my tired frightened useless eyes)

For strength I choose the route that passes Liberty

The strong-limbed statue living at a home nearby,

triumphant, stalwart, handsome, standing firm

on empty driveway at the side — her calm gaze

always waiting there to lift a watcher's mood

Not now, turns out she's gone, to some new home

somewhere unknown — good thing for her, no doubt

and sculptor too — a sale? a better, fitter place?

Though selfishness just wants her here, close by

(such wants, of course, of no import, without effect).

Too scared to stay away I'm soon back home

but now keep clear, head turned, avert my eyes

Try not to see new marshlands as I pass

Try hard to slow my thumping jolting heart

Submit to waiting once again — the hours pass,

birds frolic flirt and bathe as water flows,

then sudden knock bangs loudly on the door

they're here! without the phone call first, no problem but

sound-shock does make me slightly/softly scream —

just have to hope through door it wasn't heard

In new-norm covid mode, they half-apologize

For being/breathing there, for entering to check the pipes

Forbidden act, to enter here, but there's no choice,

in masks we go and see where City water comes inside —

I choose the least invasive option of repair

Hear scary upshots, risks and costs — a two day job

That may not work, cost more, and fail again

Boss leaves us then, the junior buckles down with spades

Works so damn hard in cold wet winter chill, bent double

Poor guy, bare hands thrust deep in black muck, icy flow

Climbs up/down, down/up, up and down and up again

crouching, yanking, twisting, stabbing, torquing, wiping down

An hour passes, then o god a geyser sudden starts out there,

Shoots up waist-high—turns out this may not be so bad, may even be

Felix culpa, a lucky break? for Stuart — that's his stalwart name

says that he will . . . go ahead, will fix the problem now!

Won't leave this gushing fountain danger overnight

But must cut off my water first — yes please, of course

He heads back out into the chilly ice melt breeze

To sever me at once from City's liquid flow

He climbs up, bends down — geyser drops! then stops

From inside, watching him, just wish that I could help

Hold tools perhaps, like pencil-gripping Dora Copperfield?

At least could give him something when he's done,

biscotti baked by me, some wine, or just a warming cup of tea —

but now, with covid here, no, nothing's right,

such gestures only cause distress, create new risk

In foolish, pointless ways — for he of course can't know

My cleanly covid protocols, or lack thereof —

must just keep still, just wait, just quietly comply

Another ninety minutes, soft knock at the door . . .

seems it is done? — masked dark-eyed Stuart,

standing shyly back, now tells me we're okay,

the pipe's replaced, the water's pure and clean

The marshy flood without, which will subside

Bears zero taint, nothing to fear — the birds were right

He's turned the water on again, sends me to check

On upstairs taps, make sure they flow — they do —

But he declines to use what's been restored

To warm and bathe those pallid deep-chilled hands

He's fine, he says, in scientific thermal layers wisely clad,

is heading home, will be there cozy soon

He stays well distanced, fills out the handwrit form

Cuts down the bill — hear myself gasp — by a full third!

I pay him, thank him, thank him, and he's gone.