A Funeral in Kosrae

Volcanic peaks wildflowers lush,
Framed by crystalline sea,
A skinny coral landing strip,
Dazzling rainforest, pristine place to be.

Thick humidity everlasting,
Superb island state to see,
Jungle heat and unctuous scent,
Glorious Frangipani.

Starving mutts in numbers,
Too lethargic to bark,
Line the roadside like pilgrims,
And the islands soul is dark.

Trees bend double under load,
Of breadfruit and Papaya,
The sea dazzling and empty beckons,
But today not a player.

Parents and toddlers on their way,
To a funeral feast ahead,
The man in the crypt is very young,
Diabetes, an overwhelming dread.

Rapid Westernisation,
There is no famine here,
Just scourges of affluence,
And a future built on fear.