The Domestic Cost of Climate Change

blood is metal | rose slade | digital

The Domestic Cost of Climate Change by Samarra Ferrigno

In a Sri Lanka village, from a failed season’s crop Either washed all away or dried to a drop No middle ground, monsoon or endless drought Money drains and drips into doubt 

As a storm’s rages puts strain on all life 

A husband takes anger out on his wife 

Behind closed doors, they are beaten and cry Their dignities shattered, they are terrified 

Angry men, silent women 

And struggles to survive multiply by the dozen Women obey because they have to survive They could not reveal it, so instead they hide 

Empty stomachs earthquake from shredded grains Torn away by hurricanes 

In countries without fortunes of food 

They feel the mistakes of the seeds we have ensued 

And many voices washed out by storms from our boll Women pay for what they can not control Where violence toward wives is commonplace The storms must end, something must change 

And for those lucky like me we can’t turn our face Or soon too we’ll feel the storm’s mighty embrace