Unwashed

Such memories don't get washed out back to sea, 
to be unseen, lost in the turmoil between 
once a road and network or paths or labyrinth
but there is no power to lift up the darkness 
from the heart or the dead, darkened by the sun
from a blue sky where once a wind howled 
with belligerence, road rage, red-faced, pummeling
but of course, there is no remorse
for a hit-and-run victim, bloodied and abandoned 
on the beach like pebbles, shells, white sand, 
overrun by waters, moving to and fro.

* Written with the super-typhoon Hainan Filipino victims in mind.