High Ground Visitors

By Lynn Ockersz

White-clad and smug,

In cavernous Limousines,

The dignitaries are back,

Trying out winning smiles,

Surveying the debacle,

Of these brave decades,

Of people and homesteads,

Sinking mercilessly,

In backwaters of neglect,

Which is the best proof yet,

That the land’s periphery,

Has not figured much,

On the planning boards,

Of those ‘strutting and fretting,

Their hour’ on high ground.