a ship wreck
a thousand times the sand and sea
washed up these shores in the past week.
washed up these shores in the past week.
(one thunder clasps, and
birds fly amok.)
birds fly amok.)
this ship clings on a dry height,
but a soft smooth wind is enough
to knock it over,
in the next hour
when Mother is raging.
where to hide?
is it the half dead banana leaf
that spans across our whole body?
is it a bunch of smaller branches
spread on the top tree?
any but a faint blood drop
is enough for the hungry prey,
in the next hour
when Night is winning.