I am Noah's wife; yes, that's all.
My parents gave me a name, I'm sure 
(or at least my. mother did, my father 
couldn't bother with a useless girl, not the
hoped-for son). So they married me off, 
as soon as they could, to an old man, pious, 
not abusive, but old - 500 years when I bore 
his sons, all of whom had names. He never
even thanked me after all of that was done, 
even as I listened to his plans and schemes,
wild dreams that told him God's voice said,
"Build a boat, make it just so, a huge boat 
with plenty of room for livestock, all sorts
of livestock, the birds and reptiles too."
And while he built that big old boat, do you know
what I did? I got together food, food for us, 
our sons' families, food for all those animals.
Ridiculous amounts of food: planning it,
preparing it, storing it. No one mentions all
that I did, no word of recognition, much less
thanks. And then when the rain started, who
herded the animals onto that boat ramp? 
You think it was the old man with the gimpy knee?
Of course not. The boys busied themselves with 
nonsense too. And there we were, the other wives
and I herding animals two-by-two, making sure one 
of each sex boarded. Snakes -- have you ever tried
to sex snakes while they're on the move? I thought
not. All aboard, just as the torrents begin. Forty days
of cabin fever and smelling wet fur, shoveling shit
and keeping the peace. Whose job was that, I 
wonder? After forty days of rain, one hundred-fifty 
days of decreasing water, followed by another
four months as things dried out. And who was 
the busy one though all of this? Noah, of course!
Spending days deciding which bird to send.
Raven? Dove? Raven? Dove? The raven went first 
and just flew around but the quiet dove found the
land to settle down. And then God spoke again
to Noah (sometimes I wish he wouldn't listen),
saying, in so many words, "Get off the boat. Then 
get busy and repopulate the world!" Seriously, God? 
I'm exhausted.

What followed is a story for another day.
Let someone with a name star in that sequel.

This draft poem for the end of the month of April was serendipitous because my two prompt streams coincided, in that I was to create a poem with a character from a familiar myth or story. Thanks to Miz Quickly and NaPoWriMo for a satisfying ending to a challenging month.