In a climate of fear

The words sound awkward,
The jagged unfamiliarity of them,
							lake, rainfall, waterfall
They’ve slipped out of use,
Archaic, irrelevant, uncomfortable memories
From when there was the illusion of plenty.

Dry in the season of rain
Wealthy women and men moisturise,
A prince drowns in gold,
An old blind woman predicts
The rain will never come again,
Those who laugh at her are left behind
To shrink into their parched skin,
The wise rise at dawn, pack silently,
Don’t look back.

Sweeping beaches
Swept out to sea,
Heroic beachhead
Pounded like a boxer down and out,
Crinkle cut cliff falling in strips as if soldiers dying in battle,
Fence posts topple like a dominoes run,
The front line moves inland,
The war being lost tide by tide.