August in Oegstgeest

Walking these quiet streets
Green beneath generous trees
in dappled sunlight
I know
that Rome is burning…
Actually, it’s Athens, Antalya, Algeria, Sicilia
and across the Atlantic
my belovèd British Columbia
Washington state, Oregon, and the mountains of California.
I wonder, Apocalypse now?

Not the time to read headlines
(murders and rapes and shootings —
financial crashes, multinational takeovers
now seem irrelevant)

And my Californian cousin tells me:
It’s always like this, in the hot summer,
we weren’t much hindered on our holiday
outside, climbing our familiar hills —
just found the air thicker, more difficult to breathe

But my Greek friends flee their ancient capitol
there,
the land is ashes
run to the sea
wealthy and refugees 
alike destitute
grateful to be alive

We need new words
for homeless, for hunger
for desert, for orphan

Dust and ashes