I’m ripples, swamped by water,
lifted by brother.
I’m girl watching home
wash away again, again.
I hover over flood
my only loves, our goat,
the bracelets of my grandmother,
now treasure of the force of nature.
I’m homeless in the smoke-grey
of a greedy monsoon.
-Maggie Mackay (previously published in the ezine, ‘Writers For Calais Refugees’ )
I will not see that fine shore again
Or feel its breeze upon my face
We are shackled to this human train
That passes through another’s place.
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