and we become (the thing that we denied) a refugee

the thought I had
was a refugee

I’ve had these thoughts
before

once in a boat
upon the waters
wide

sometimes
as a thought
in the sky

but lately
I’ve been watching flame
licking at the leaves
on the trees

bringing darkness
when the sun
should shine

and I see photographs
in my newspapers

I see pictures
on the TV screen
of mamas
holding it together
the best way
that they can

of papas
crying

like the world’s gone
mad

and I count
the creatures
that aren’t where
they should be
and my thought
is just a prisoner
to the knowledge
that the world has changed

there’s no koala
there

there’s no blue-tongue

no wombat and
no kangaroo

I can’t see
a magpie

the kookaburra
isn’t laughing

no brown snake
or tiger

where is
the fairy wren

the wood ducks I remember
as a score

are there any left
I wonder

is there anywhere
that they might go

in my mind
I see
a desert grow

where rainforest
always swayed

and I can see
a land
that was once
my home
and y thought
becomes
a refugee

who am I
who are we
when the things that make us
we
are gone

who am I
who are we
when the air
we took so much
for granted
is brown

is the night time
of our lives

what am I
what are we

I don’t know
I don’t know
I don’t know

but in my heart
I feel
what I have to feel
and my thought

my poor thought
becomes
nothing more
than a refugee

______________________________________________________________________________

Would you like to be notified about changes and developments in my writing world, new poetry collections and giveaways?

Subscribe to my monthly Newsletter here