MERTHYR AND MUMBAI
Dry April turns to fire.
Smoke from the mountain-side
choking air, destroyers with lighters
have fled. I recall Mumbai
skyline with pollution haze hanging
every single day like smoke
from a thousand crematoria.
Grass snakes, foxes , field mice
fleeing or dying, burnt alive ;
while people take to the roads
back to villages with paltry belongings ;
gorse and bracken , the shanty towns
abandoned as flames crown
the ridges , the car parks.
Where will they go?
Nests ashened, ramshackle homes
left to the monsoon season.
Breathe again, but for how long?
Fire is following ,
will it catch them?
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