The Aftermath

Apparently today is the 101st anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic. I wanted to post something matching that, but the closest thing I had ready was this.

Of late this land by evil hand was scarred,
Turned grey with ash and tramped by booted foot.
The farmers' fields were yielded scant regard.
The trees were warped and blackened by the soot.

The taint has gone, but still we mourn its mark.
There yet remains what good cannot undo.
The house rebuilt by bloodied silt still dark,
The twisted oak — they'll never be as new.

In its due turn this land will learn to heal;
Though never as before, all will be well.
Our new-crowned king will changes bring for real.
Clean rain will fall on fields as once it fell.

But that's to come. For now, we face our fate,
Resign ourselves to bear rebuilding's weight.
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