Leonard Cohen was Singing, ‘I’m Your Man’.

When a deep and deathly darkness
rolled rumbling from the sky,
riling up the chaos out of calm.
The day wacked, kicked and yowling
in the mayhem of a storm
and Leonard Cohen was singing, ‘I’m Your Man’.

From harvest skies to raging wracks
of a wanting bent on ruin;
the gods must have had a change of plan.
Uprooting trees and homesteads,
undermining river banks
and of those who held the crook fell with the lamb.

The power lines came crashing down,
the church went up in smoke,
the waters were rising in the dam.
The dogs, they took to howling
while the storm took life and limb
and Leonard Cohen was singing, ‘I’m Your Man’.

Midst fearsome gales of pelting hail,
a ruthlessness unleashed,
reeling in its terrorising span.
Round and round the huddling souls
as the young ones cried in fear
and the reaper of their fears wailed, ‘Here I am.’

The final thump, the dam succumbed,
the valley, overwhelmed,
engulfing the fleeing as they ran.
What left but ruin and eeriness
when the storm had come to pass,
’twas as if the gods had never gave a damn.

They were buried close together,
a plot, above the ruins,
at peace where the weeping willows hang.
The only known survivor
still in shock when she recalled,
that the radio was playing, ‘I’m Your Man’.