Sunday, April 25, 2010

My M’dina

by Geoffrey Carrascalao Heard

You remember, said a wondering voice on the phone
Of course. I stalk a land of ghosts
We walk and talk and together we recall
A thousand lessons, a thousand little jokes
They made of me and I of them
Before I could remember
As they so gently-roughly formed
The dull gray stuff inside my head
Into my life; their living

Now half a century on, those days, Donne’s
Rags of time, stand in sharp relief as though
Engraved on the inside of my eyes
Names and faces and fun and beauty
There’s only a handful left it seems
Except virtually in my head
Shades and shadows everywhere
Traces of the dead.

I rage at the manner of their passing
Some victims of anno domini of course
But also of a million minute thugs
Named and unnamed; parasites, virii and bacteria
That corrupted their paradise
And of another corruption that meant
A common drug, a doctor’s minutes
Withheld.

Forever.

---

This material is copyright © Geoffrey Carrascalao Heard 2010.

Geoffrey Heard worked in media in Papua New Guinea in the 1960s and 1970s and has just returned to that country as an Australian Volunteer supported by AusAID working with the Media Council of Papua New Guinea. The opinions and comments in this article are his own and do not represent the views of the Media Council of PNG, Australian Volunteers International, or AusAID.

No comments:

Post a Comment