The Haunting

There is a landscape bare

No-one likes reminders of there

Favours a statue with blank-eyed stare

The memories now barren and rare

Where once the driver was to care

The default mode, we share

In essence a community affair

On which was brought to bear

The broken home, table and chair

Symbolic of a dark despair

Of wounds, and wounds beyond repair

Respects not culture nor humanity fair

The laughter turned to wailing where

The wind through forlorn spaces tear

Ill markings that decency scare

Tent with postcard-pretty shack pair

The wolf feeding hungrily at lair

Eyeing the vultures scavenging the air

Calls to account the self-aware

To reckon with the fallout of the dare

SP