The Giant Wave

The giant wave,
inside a mansion block.
I go outside,
when the water subsides.
Call my daughter,
to see she is safe.
She’s moved inland,
out to the countryside.
Far from the river,
and further from the oceans.
The lower floors
are muddy with silt,
and there’s people
carrying out furniture-
still dripping scum
and saltwater.
The people who run
this place, think I’m unsafe.
Think I’m a crocodile
snaking my way in.
And I stand there,
rigid with pride and pain-
waiting to be vouched for,
waiting to be recognized,
waiting to get back in again.

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