Tidal Surge – 13th January 2017

I now abjectly surrender – my dodgy piece of plastic
is no protector or champion of sandbags.
Its wispiness and vacuous translucency
bookmarks my day in hopelessness.

My large possessions glance heavenward.
My small possessions gather in my arms.
And I carry them child-like, so tenderly upstairs.

The wind arrives - virginal snow falls from a merciless sky.
And insidious worries shrouds my desolate heart.
Outside children are ecstatic as the elements frolic.
I wait and wait with dark abiding fatalism.

My large possessions scream for attention.
My small possessions weep at the separation.
They feel lost and disconnected in my spare bedroom.

Neighbours discuss – instant climate aficionados
All the time crossing shaking fingers behind their backs.
It does no good to give in now or plead for deliverance.
Nature takes no prisoners and mocks a cowardy-custard.

My large possessions are terrified at the left behind space.
My small possessions sweetly hunker down together.
Family pictures console – their ghostly familiarity is tangible.

The fatal tide has arrived and the surge has pitched up..
But the capricious wind changes its mind and direction.
And my home greets me with I told you so delight.
I have not gone down with my house after all – not this time.