At first they are just sounds
among all the unfamiliar sounds
echoing around us in Gallery A.
I’m left behind, engrossed with other ancient bones;
jar, log and bronze coffins; slab graves.
The sounds are in language I don’t know,
but their meaning stalks me, then leads me
in the direction from which they come.
A couple sit on a bench in the atrium
between prehistory and colonisation.
The woman is sobbing. She rests her head
against her companion’s shoulder,
The tour guide comes to claim me;
she thinks I’m lost.
*lament (Malaysian)
Beautifully realised.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Rosemary! It was a late night last night. :)
ReplyDeleteI love how this works metaphorically!
ReplyDeleteVery lovely.
ReplyDeleteespecially like the couple on the bench stanza.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Efi, Lisa & Jill. Like many new pieces I've since spotted a few things that needed to go - also discovered the edit strike-through function so I can show deletions. Also, I've changed the gender of the guide to female, so as not to confuse with the man on the bench. Now I can see it could confuse with the woman. (Aaaargh!) I'm tempted to remove the gendered pronoun altogether in relation to the guide, e.g. "The tour guide comes to claim me; / thinks I’m lost." What do you think?
ReplyDelete