On the Beach at Mallacoota
Thousands
take to the beach at Mallacoota to escape
The fires,
and they huddle on the sand, while the skies
Turn black
and red, embers, ashes, rape
And ravage
the forests and the beasts: what lies
Before us
are familiar images, the troops in Dunkirk
Cornered
and concerned, the businessmen and women
Who fled
the carnage of Twin Towers; no quirk
Of nature
or arsonist’s fantasy, but the venom
Spewed
forth from terrorist ideologies.
The ferries
and the dinghies gathered across the bay
Where the
firemen and ambulances in the trees
That dance
like Roman candles and koalas lurk
And the
kangaroos race exhausted to the end of the day,
And
civilization lies smouldering in stench and murk.
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