Closing the golden door

[Keith]

Will democracy ever grow, to know
what it's like to white-wash walls,
water the bougainvillea
and welcome its flowers?

Flames are ment to be warm,
save flotsam from the sea, but
not all reactions are verdigris,
big steps only straddle the earthquake.

When the sun becomes a flash
and clouds can reach any continent,
will the slit of light still be seen, no matter
how obtuse our words have been.
Or will we watch, while the torch burns.

[Leanne]

The only flame to be seen
is in the back of gasoline throats,
flaring when mouths open wide
to hide the shadow-play beneath the river's gloss

and the thorns of the bougainvillea
draw no blood from democracy's corpse

the lime only hastens decomposition
as the world exsanguinates
to white

[Keith]

What a splendid way to answer the question posed, bravo Leanne. Best Keith

[Leanne]

It was a splendid question, Keith