Identical Smiles in my land

The winds of change are moving over the land

And the moon never rises on a similar scene,

Yet the eyes of the present are blind to the past

And the changes blur to a gentle acceleration

Where only separation can force the division

Between then and now,

And why and how.

Only gnarled ghosts remain of the colonialist hand

And the ancient tribes have been machined to dust

Which settles on people and on the land

Blanketing out all the sense and reason that supposedly comes hand in hand with time.

Instead a quiet has descended on rocks and mountains -

They shrink under the burden

Of a forgotten memory.

The braces of time have weighted down the corners of the smiles,

And forced them into a foreign alignment

That has sunk the quirks and gaps in the front,

Creating fragments of faces that dissolve in the sterile sand of the sea:

Never gone, but so far lost that they will never be found.

Only grimaces are left,

In the parting of the lips and in the eyes.

They depart from the clinical appointment, blank,

Colourless sheets blown by the changing wind:

They are all exactly the same, but in whose eyes?

Ignoring the wisdom of the past, they resist by shielding themselves

In the very armour that ghostly hand designed.

Safety in numbers, hiding from reality:

All identical faces.