so deeply impacted revelation is going to be extinction level be seismological
and there we are (time as we now see thing quite unreal)
looking down from the reverse slope of Devil’s Peak out over the flat suburbs (dust and sand of ocean reclaimed)
but your mind is far into the interior digging up the bones that tell us pain is history; history pain
somehow they cannot convert your cerebral into spectacle no technicolour out there to match your austere
somehow intensity here has of necessity to be sharp and sweet
somehow these titanic currents, seas meeting twisting, contorting
all going to flow ultimately transformed in that wash
for now so precious little melding, blending hope for the rude rudiments of a comfort zone (plane almost scraping the lids off shanties take offs and landings whole other, true, South Africa cannot just wish away)
and there you are delivered of all our quandaries all our questions bitter conundrums
absorbing the crimson sunset light in your paradise of refuge
do you not think of us recall what was lived through?
take a last look our way
scan sky far to the West where Sun is forever setting
