The darkest of days

On the island that was always mine, 

crisp winds touch the shoreline, 

waves crashing on the rock's end 

water crawling up the hill's bend. 

A historical moment of 1810, 

leading to the same issue again and again. 
 

As the day grows older 

the summer winds become colder. 

I lie on the sand and happen to wonder 

what would happen if the animals went under? 

When they docked to the shore; 

Lives were lost because they chose to ignore. 

Years are gone and we remember, 

What it was like in late September. 

Thousands of my kind killed for oil, 

the introduced pests dug up the soil. 

They came back with hope and a passion 

To overcome dark times and bring back compassion.