summer comes over the waves
like soaring birds of silver
reminding us
of the times
we’ve had money
& brings with it news
of bombs
& a war creeping closer
young women wear less
every day
& a child’s skull
catches on a nail
whole families
become mangled twisted
heaps of burnt flesh
& the sun shines
Wales & Scotland
will have their own parliaments
& the mountains won’t fall
the seas won’t dry
the bats won’t find
a new way to track their pray
& the icebergs
won’t crack yet
mathematics will always be boring
& ice-cold vodka
will always taste
like the purr of a cat
and the moon won’t slip
& the earth won’t shift
but maybe anyway
we should all just go to bed
yes
maybe we should all just stop what we’re doing
just lay our heads down
& sleep
.
Niall Griffiths
.