When the dust settles (Poem)
Is it to be, that only then…
our vision would reach peak acuity?
Only when the dust settles in nettles
over floods of blood and meshes of flesh?
Our foresight is a sight for sore eyes,
Cloudy sand-covered mists
summarise politics tricks
as we jump on every opportunity
to jump at each others throats.
Maybe… when the dust settles
and it is our child’s limbs in our arms
we will learn to drop our arms
and finally realise our foolishness
in settling for dust.