One More Day 29/02/16 by Natalia Spencer

‘They arrived scared. Now they are scared of us’ Good Chance Calais

The caravan made of blue Sanskrit & blankets

which was love to us

burns black

 

You watch children weep

gas & bulldozers claw

a food shop

 

in the space emptied of friendship

& prayer

 

you say it’s to prevent typhoid          promise

to house us in cargo containers

fourteen beds to one pod

 

my brother’s name was Tariq

he who pounds at the door

 

I look to the pony tail lady

she gave out water & shoes

Sorry I cannot stop this

 

Her focus is on a smoking black bag

The tins           tall ones          short ones

have no labels

no distinguishable marks

 

Were they useful

or just flea plagued rubbish

 

What choice    is there

but to go as life jackets

red, yellow, orange     hang

fixed to Greek sky

discarded like butterfly wings