Saturday, 21 November 2009


The Grand Parade in Cork resembling Venice ,
in the flooding of the last few days.


The water rushed in
Set free from the broken banks,
Submerging domestic life
In it’s swaddling ooze.

Stranded upstairs
Land dwellers look out to sea
Where lately lawns were trimmed,
And streams of murky brown
Torrent through the garden swing.

Dogs and cattle call
Alarmed at this fluid pasture
While experts crow again
Of changing climate
And further plans of action.

Meanwhile the island sinks
Beneath swamped hopes
And tidal waves of disappointment.

What Ark will now save us
From these foolish habitations
Built on the shifting sands
Of our heart-wrenched plains.
Gerard O'Shea


Tony said...

Captures the moment well!

Jake said...

Not just the moment I'd suggest, but the momentum of uncertain days.