by Kendrick Smithyman
August struck out compelling
branches to crack, a tidal creek
to babble mangrove leaf; came wheeling
over tough headlands; bruised your mouth.
Danger was mentioned every week
cloudily drifting the north.
To keep it bearable we told
tall tales of sheltered bays
where no such plot to count as land
spoiled by war, where out of sight
we might lie close or go our ways
taking joy by day or night.
Critically yet are heard
whispers, through nervous servile wires.
Threats are radioed abroad
forecasting damage, hinting fall
of last frail personal frontiers.
Words get written on your wall.
Last updated January 14, 2019