These words
are not ours: they are silica: glass,
and we place them into our walls,
we look through them to the distance,
glasses, filled with liquid,
drunk from, seen from, seen through,
not ours: they are trains, passenger & cargo,
over the track/over the track/over the track,
Anglo-Saxon-African, Anglo-Saxon-African,
Latinate, Latinate...not ours
but ships, steady, ballasted in carbon,
freighted with our fears, far off shore
or near.

And wheels. Wind. Soil. Teach them
about water,
  they say. Teach.
Not ours: Torch. Drum. Birdsong.
Cross. Grass. Kiss. Who
can I give them to? Who?

Gerald Fleming
Contents | Mudlark No. 3
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