This week’s poem inspired by a recent visit to climate change affected areas of coastal Bangladesh, and particularly by the reality facing those families that have lost the land on which they depend for their livelihoods.

Adaptation

With three unmarried daughters and a son

dowry-promising soil washed away by the river –

I wonder what will become of the family by the river.

With three young daughters and a son,

floods having taken most of their property –

I see red eyed recognition of approaching poverty.

With three growing daughters and a son,

rice growing soil washed away by flood –

dry-eyed calculations of crops in square-meters of mud.

With three daughters and a birthright son,

family graves washed out to sea –

with that record gone, what place in history?

Barisal, Bangladesh 2015