fragments

pull down the blinds
bolt the doors shut
plaster over the
welcome

this is the year of desolation
no communion here
we are not celebrating
our eyes are stinging
deep grief
on this desecrated land

there is a stand
at the doorway
bowl of Nairm’s salty water
large terracotta pot
not with living soil
but full of the ash of the fires
of the last two centuries
in this country

make a paste
smear the lintels
frames
walls and windows
so that the angel of death
might pass over
that we might be freed from the
tyranny of false truths
lazy assumptions
greedy self interest

we can barely comprehend
the extinction of species
those not yet discovered
plants animals and marine life
the pollution of waterways
contamination of soil
all in the
name
of
progress

this year of sackcloth
and ashes to unmask and
master consumption
let us gather
together the fragments of truth
as they catch in
eyelashes and throats
and bury them
that this land
and people
might be healed

3 January 2020, Keren McClelland

Photo by Jason Goroncy

℘℘℘℘

Keren McClelland is a Baptist minister currently completing a Master of Urban Horticulture. She works with gardeners in private and community gardens across Melbourne in her business Wagtail Gardens. Keren lives of the land of the Wurundjeri people.