1993

One of the pockets of his rucksack is filled
with empty chocolate biscuit wrappers.
They are more like skeletons than gravestones.

Things are always getting lost in the mass grave –
notes and stories and the shrunken heads of enemies,
gold and salt all the way from Timbuktu.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s