Splinters

There were trees, once.
I remember waves … and a little park, with railings.
I used to live here.

There was a war...
And we left.
Many of us survived.

'Come back,' urged the government.
'We're rebuilding.'
'We want your energy and ideas.'

The children stayed behind–
Well, they're young people now, not children.
They overcame the muttering,
Refused to be defined as migrants.

My grandfather grew vegetables over there.
And Gran had one rose bush.
It had huge pink flowers.

I'm not sure if this government wants roses.