Ebb (A Villanelle)

the ending of the world is always near:
in fire, water, a mosquito's sting;
all flesh corrupted, the eventide is here.

politicians twist and turn our fear,
planting weeds where late the sweet birds sing;
the ending of the world is always near.

a wafer membrane sky that keeps us sere,
as to a stress-torn shell we, frightened, cling;
all flesh corrupted, the eventide is here.

bombs enough to blast all live things clear
and darken now the face of everything;
the ending of the world is always near.

every day that passes, every year
brings close and closer that grim reckoning;
all flesh corrupted, the eventide is here.

it hardly seems to justify a tear:
life is always grown from harsh wellspring
the ending of the world is always near;
all flesh corrupted, the eventide is here.

- Kathy, 21/07/16