The Days Of Our Discontent Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

The days of our discontent

The rain had fallen sharply and heavy flooding roads
fields had become lakes, and cars looked like toys thrown
away by an unrestrained boy child.

From the inside looking out, the sea is calm and subdued
by the cold that makes the sun as ineffective as yesterday's
horseshoe on a smithy's floor.

The forecast is more rain, just as well, the water reservoirs
are after a long rainless period, almost empty, should
tells us o that future wars will be about water, not oi

The wind that blew brought Sahara's sits on the window sill
yet it is better to swallow gritty sand than smell cordite
from an unjust war that thaws the ice on the ground.

Our hears ran over in sympathy for those who fled the war
we opened our homes and wallets and nailed their banner
on our masts and proudly displayed our love.

As the ghost of inflation sat in, our goodwill struggled rigidly
wallets are empty as a market trader's leather pouch
their banner no longer hangs on flag posts; we are tired.