July 28, 2025Poem

Wild seas roar,

lossnaturecitytimeidentitymortality

Wild seas roar,

Pounding defences.

Dirty cities never sleep

Some souls toil

Hands work the soil

Others tend the sick.

Nothing is ever easy

Even dying can be hard

On the living

The mountains seem impervious

To feelings

But succumb

To the rake of a raucous wind

The battering of rain.

Ten million souls

Will die tonight

Not just here but there.

Nothing will prevent it

There is no end to death

Even as a baby cries

In affirmation of life

There is an ending

Somewhere

At the coalface

On the front line

In the grime of the city

Where the air is thick

With desperation.

Death is never sweet

It smells of roses

To the living

Lilies strewn in piles

Ghostly middens

Desiccated landscapes

Vulnerable to disease.

Insurrection

Is but a stone's throw away

As cold streets burn

With intolerance

Dreams are shorn

Of purpose.

When the tides rise

The rivers flow upstream

The air turns blue

Ten million souls

Will die

In consequence,

It is the price we pay

For life.