SOMETIMES THERE’S A TIMELESSNESS
Remembering Blair Peach The New Zealand civil rights activist killed by British Police in London 1979 during an anti-racist rally They’re cold grey, these London streets and cold grey the faces on-the-beat the faces advancing, in lines advancing in grey waves of our sealed defeat
at the fall of these cold grey hooves the shaft and heft of empire’s weight bearing down on us, from iron-grey skies dominant, indifferent.
What do we know friend, what do we know? How do we progress from this cold grey world these bloody fronts by the old grey river the easy-rolling, sooth-saying Thames? You, dear brother, are the protector of voices; of the needy, the lowly who, without your example are voiceless: they’re cold grey today, the streets of London yet in your name they’re revived even though they grow dark, dark with the hues we’ll never forget because they’re us and our deliverance
in this way, it’s not so cold today though your bones lie in the cold grey clay teacher, matua, give up your robe your mantel of care and compassion
© liveencounters.net POETRY & WRITING Volume Three November - December 2023 Celebrating 14th Anniversary
