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My Poetry Poetry

Tsunami Sketch

I watch them walk wonderingly,
Stupified across the strange expanding sand
And I, likewise bewitched, stare mute
Eight years and half a world distant:
It’s not right
It’s not right
It’s not right
And when it comes, it is perfect,
A brilliant curl rimmed in white
An embrace
And still they walk
And still I watch
Naseaous and bewildered
By this, this thing like god itself
Wrath and love and death
The scale of which is clear
Too late, too little
Against the cold,
clenching mountain.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2004_Indian_Ocean_earthquake_and_tsunami