After The Floods Poem by Les Littleford

Fences, the glue of farming
laid waste for miles,
a patchwork jumble of flood litter, dead sheep, ruined crops.

We live in short term memory
The 30 second grab
And we move on as swiftly
As the raging flood
But the mud, the stench, the despair
Remain

Strong proud men of the land
Eyes devoid of light
Gaze from beneath furrowed brow
And toss their heads
Like desperate cattle

But imperceptibly, as fences, slowly, are raised,
a community resilience
that refuses to be drowned
sees new shoots peeking through the silt and
Those eyes reveal
Just the faintest twinkle