Rob Hack
All day the reef argues with the sea and no dogs bark.
Palm fronds fall across the road where
goats tied with rope bleat
and pigs scatter through tall grass.
Low cliffs, sand tracks, empty beaches
where tides wash in over the coral shelf
leaving Coke cans, plastic bottles, a red jandal.
All day diesel engines hum beside empty drums
coconuts fall, someone on a scooter waves.
All day churches are empty and perfect.
Outside, grey graves sink into the soil
like low lying islands in the sea.
On the roofs of abandoned homes rust spreads.
School kids at keyboards see a future elsewhere.