YASI TRIED
Posted: Mon Feb 07, 2011 7:47 am
YASI TRIED
He stares, tired eyes red and bloodshot – at the devastation there.
Golden sand once on the beaches now lays thickly everywhere.
Surf pounding - though somewhat chastened, on the shoreline starts to foam
as he in disbelief takes in the tangled wreckage of his home.
One final crack, sharp as a stockwhip, echoes on the empty air
as one more sheet of iron roofing sags and falls in despair.
No birds are singing, no kids laughing, no tourists on the beach.
Just miles of ruination. Harsh lessons does Mother teach.
He ventures forth – a man in shadows – cautiously he picks his way,
raises tear filled eyes to heaven, thanks God for another day.
His life spared, his hearts still beating, tears on cheeks like rivers flow.
He lived through Yasi’s terror – he’ll replant where nothing grows.
This is his land, this is his country – here he’ll stay, his home is here.
What doesn’t weaken just makes stronger – he’s survived his greatest fear;
though possessions he had cherished and collected over years
are reduced to salt soaked rubble – there is no time for tears.
Shell shocked, bereft and now grieving – through rubble and debris he picks,
finding his Mothers photo, a child’s small Teddy. Broken sticks
of what was a massive gum tree on the footpath of the street
lie reposing nonchalant in his bathtub with clawed feet.
His toilet now stands in solitude - to the whole world exposed
with water views of rolling surf - a great selling point are those.
And fluttering on the wind, seeming not damaged at all
a roll of toilet paper, mounted on the shattered wall.
Slowly people start emerging – shell shocked survivors – disbelief
plainly written on their faces, many tears but great relief.
Someone cracks open a carton – not ice cold but it’ll do.
No power to boil the billy and the fresh waters gone to.
Rueful laughter, hugs and kisses, and solidarity is there
they're tough Queenslanders, they’re battered but wont give in to despair.
Up above the sky is blue – a flock of lorikeets is spied.
The sighting gives hope and courage. They’re down not out – though Yasi tried.
Maureen Clifford © 02/11
He stares, tired eyes red and bloodshot – at the devastation there.
Golden sand once on the beaches now lays thickly everywhere.
Surf pounding - though somewhat chastened, on the shoreline starts to foam
as he in disbelief takes in the tangled wreckage of his home.
One final crack, sharp as a stockwhip, echoes on the empty air
as one more sheet of iron roofing sags and falls in despair.
No birds are singing, no kids laughing, no tourists on the beach.
Just miles of ruination. Harsh lessons does Mother teach.
He ventures forth – a man in shadows – cautiously he picks his way,
raises tear filled eyes to heaven, thanks God for another day.
His life spared, his hearts still beating, tears on cheeks like rivers flow.
He lived through Yasi’s terror – he’ll replant where nothing grows.
This is his land, this is his country – here he’ll stay, his home is here.
What doesn’t weaken just makes stronger – he’s survived his greatest fear;
though possessions he had cherished and collected over years
are reduced to salt soaked rubble – there is no time for tears.
Shell shocked, bereft and now grieving – through rubble and debris he picks,
finding his Mothers photo, a child’s small Teddy. Broken sticks
of what was a massive gum tree on the footpath of the street
lie reposing nonchalant in his bathtub with clawed feet.
His toilet now stands in solitude - to the whole world exposed
with water views of rolling surf - a great selling point are those.
And fluttering on the wind, seeming not damaged at all
a roll of toilet paper, mounted on the shattered wall.
Slowly people start emerging – shell shocked survivors – disbelief
plainly written on their faces, many tears but great relief.
Someone cracks open a carton – not ice cold but it’ll do.
No power to boil the billy and the fresh waters gone to.
Rueful laughter, hugs and kisses, and solidarity is there
they're tough Queenslanders, they’re battered but wont give in to despair.
Up above the sky is blue – a flock of lorikeets is spied.
The sighting gives hope and courage. They’re down not out – though Yasi tried.
Maureen Clifford © 02/11