Ghost town

Stirring the dust of an eclipsed city,
a flamenco of flamingos.
Swizzle-stick loner
whirls through the sandpit street.


A flamenco of flamingos,
pot-pourri of abandoned possessions,
whirls through the sandpit street,
unearthing a history.


Pot-pourri of abandoned possessions,
left while a population took flight,
unearthing a history,
sifting like flour, old memories.


Left while a population took flight,
a muddle of linen drifts and collapses.
Sifting, like flour, old memories,
beaks bittering, twisting, lamenting.


A muddle of linen drifts and collapses,
shrouding the death of a city by drowning.
Beaks bittering, twisting, lamenting,
stirring the dust of an eclipsed city.


Published in Poetry Ireland Review under the title Lost in Namibia