The Other Side


The line is clear
And you stand on the other side
With the seeds of your history
Cracking the earth in the furrows
Running behind you,
A heaving slave-ship half alive
Silhouetted against a heavy
Bosomed sky.
On the other side
Through the filigree hedge
Your blabber strains out
Raucous and harsh -
Prayers to unhearing Gods
Chanting and swooning in pagan worship.
As monarchs with bubble egos
Finger destinies on
The etchings of a crude map,
A blast of a scent of singed hair
And the colour of open flesh
Blur the line and there is no more- The other side.

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