The Happiness Report
from the pagan haven
of a guarded and gated
sunny seaside resort
Machine tooled
from a block of concrete
Then deposited
upon a mangrove swamp
along a once pristine coast
Now a checkpoint
and a guard tower
cast shadows
across the lungs of nature
dying of tourist cancer
“The voice of your brother’s blood
Is crying to me from the ground.”
Artwork: David B. Redpath ©2019-2023
When in Agra, perhaps on the way to
the Taj Mahal, drop in to Sheroes Hangout.
So much more than a Restaurant & Cafe.
Run for and by survivors of acid attack.
All women, overcoming the unspeakable.
“Now we are ready to fight back!”
As far as the East
is from the West
at the speed of desperate need
progress … a grab bag of plastic
all mixed up with curses blessed
by the priests of endless greed
Roaming the Never Never
an ancient and sacred land
where the secreted past
paves over a haunted future
Lingering upon the red desert sand
crimes not forgotten
A whisper from the Dreamtime
asking …
“Can all things be forgiven?”
David Redpath 