Noah

This dreary, rain-soaked Monday

in late October, 

a reading of Noah

lingering in the mind

and the question

asked by the rabbis 

whether he was truly righteous 

or just righteous enough

in a very wicked generation, 

they can't seem to decide,

and I ask myself why

everything has to be relative

in this world 

that floats like a life raft 

in black space 

riding up and down waves of good and evil

this overloaded boat

mewling with vestiges of the living 

collected in twos,

each asking him/herself 

why

and the heavens opening

with the answer

why not.