The Remnant

The Remnant
Rain seeped in,
Through the torn fronds,
Thatching the roof.

Water flowing,
On the cracked cement floor,
Laved along the clay wall,
And soaked the torn sack,
Carpeting the door-step.

Outside, a rickety bicycle,
Leant against the wet wall.

Rain wetted the dry coconut husks,
Laid along the ledge of the wall.

As flood ambushed the hovel,
And stormed in,
The soggy walls caved in.

Under the avalanche of clay,
The rusty bicycle,
Was crushed to the ground,
Like a beetle under-foot.

The old peasant and his wife,
Came home to a heap of wet clay and wattle,
And watched with cold sorrow,
The sodden ruins,
Of their humble paradise.

The flood had destroyed,
Or washed away,
All their possessions.

All, I mean, except poverty.