A view from a house on a headland
Standing safe for now
On an elevated balcony
We watch the western sun go down
Into the blazing orange sea
Fires burn to east and west
Threatening our promontory.
The western fire sets alight
The glaring sky and water
To the east three fires are lit
By the Orange elders.
Into a cloudless sky
Three eastern pillars billow black:
Flags and tyres and crates and effigies
Fuel the fires of three hundred years,
As we upon the balcony
Share a silent fear
For our combustible peace:
On the east we turn our backs
From the west we shield our eyes.
The next morning
The road out is blocked
By piping bands.
In the park
Barefoot children
Step around broken glass
And the evening’s ashes.
The afternoon July sun,
Though declining,
Keeps the circle
Of burnt grass hot.
Scorching land and skin,
It brands the neck of the son
Who stays to tend
The flame the father started.
As for us upon the headland
Who watched the mainland burn away,
We could cast off into the sea – an island of our own –
Or we could stay
And put out the flames our fathers started
And rip out the seeds that they have sown.
Standing safe for now
On an elevated balcony
We watch the western sun go down
Into the blazing orange sea
Fires burn to east and west
Threatening our promontory.
The western fire sets alight
The glaring sky and water
To the east three fires are lit
By the Orange elders.
Into a cloudless sky
Three eastern pillars billow black:
Flags and tyres and crates and effigies
Fuel the fires of three hundred years,
As we upon the balcony
Share a silent fear
For our combustible peace:
On the east we turn our backs
From the west we shield our eyes.
The next morning
The road out is blocked
By piping bands.
In the park
Barefoot children
Step around broken glass
And the evening’s ashes.
The afternoon July sun,
Though declining,
Keeps the circle
Of burnt grass hot.
Scorching land and skin,
It brands the neck of the son
Who stays to tend
The flame the father started.
As for us upon the headland
Who watched the mainland burn away,
We could cast off into the sea – an island of our own –
Or we could stay
And put out the flames our fathers started
And rip out the seeds that they have sown.
