From Colony to Nation
A dull people,
but the rivers of this country
are wide and beautiful
A dull people
enamoured of childish games,
but food is easily come by
and plentiful
Some with a priest’s voice
in their cage of ribs: but
on high mountain-tops and in thunderstorms
the chirping is not heard
Deferring to beadle and censor;
not ashamed for this,
but given over to horseplay,
the making of money
A dull people, without charm
or ideas,
settling into the clean empty look
as into a legacy
One can ignore them
(the silences, the vast distances help)
and suppose them at the bottom
of one of the meaner lakes,
their bones not even picked for souvenirs.
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