The Wave

People lay in the sun

Children played along the shore

The sun beat down

The water sparkled

On the horizon appearance of calm

Another day

Another swim

The perfect Christmas holiday.  

People lay in the sun

Children played along the shore

A fishing boat heading out

Parasols going up

Restaurants frying food

Another day

Another tourist

An ordinary working day.  

The sun dips behind a parasol

Which hides a frisson out to sea

That heralds a sudden surge

A thin blue line of water builds to a terrifying

Wave

An unrelenting splurge of nature.

It sneaks its way into the beach

Felling all in its path

Swirling its flotsam and jetsam

Like a demented spin dryer

Smashing boats and deck chairs,

Swirling cars and tables

Splaying limbs and torsos

Filling hotel rooms

Pushing on and on.

Then like an elastic band it pulls itself back

Sucking and engulfing everything into its

Energy vortex

And with renewed ferocity hurls itself upon the battered beach again

And again

Sparing nothing in its path.  

People lie in the sun

Bloated bodies missing heads and limbs

Children no longer on the shore

The sun beats down

The angry waters froth their angry coloured spume

The blue turned brown and khaki

The holiday turned trauma nightmare

All livelihoods demolished by a wave.

Men, women, children

Gone

Gone forever.  

Only the animals

Intimately connected to the earth

Felt the tremors and

Headed for the hills Antenna alert

Sensing danger

Smelling death

Survival in their skin.  

People lie in the sun

Children play along the shore

Fisherman set sail their boats

People mend their parasols

The sun beats down

Human vultures peck around the beach

Picking up remains

Not missing an opportunity

To make a buck.

For life goes on

The dead are buried

Some in graves

Some enfolded by the sea.  

Trade starts up

School resumes

People swim

The water flows

The beach returns to life

The tides relentless move their waves against the shore.

Houses repaired

Roads rebuilt

Landscapes recover

Animals return

And people remember:

Battered bodies and bruised hearts recall

The day, the time, the hour

The wave swept in

People remember.

Sarah Krzeczunowicz, January 2005