Warnings ignored and whole islands disappeared.
Coastal cities graves for those who thought
this was a hoax. Our last refuge,
the city in ruin in the middle of a water-bound nowhere
that can no longer sustain us. Yes, we know. Yes,
we dance. Yes, we sing the songs all but forgotten.
Goodbye, sun. Goodbye, moon.
You look down on our demise, indifferent.
We are about to return to the element
from whence we came. Somewhere, humans
are developing gills and fins only to be rejected.
A German-born UK national, Rose Mary Boehm lives in Lima, Peru. She is the author of three collections of poetry, the most recent of which will be published later this year by Blue Nib.