Saturday Poem

Orphan Tsunami

In the past
no news,
no warning tremble,
just a silent drawing back
of the ocean’s arm
before it delivered
itself
onto the earth.

A perverse broom
swept the ground
adding chaos and dirt,
a tumble of refuse,
while removing life.

Now we track
long paths
across oceans
from point of origin
to point of despair.

Tsunamis
are no longer orphans,
they only make them.

5 thoughts on “Saturday Poem

  1. Strong and clear words about our own helplessness in the face of such power, armed with technology or not. Great closing lines, indeed.

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