Life isn’t a dress rehearsal.
-- John Lennon
He denies murder refrains through
the courts, the woods, the softness
of my skin; penetrates the anniversary
of innocence falling off a balcony.
The fragrance of atonement is cheaper
than a finger for a finger, so we light
candles for the genocides, we mourn
as we lay our wreaths along the road.
Passion is not a crime on Valentine’s
Day; free tickets and e-cards pay the
debt while old peace talks masterly
capture the pureness of heart from afar.
Freedom has a nutty flavour these days,
tucked away in third-generation bikie
gang outhouses - like truth, or stolen
water, conveniently discarded on a breeze.
Mountains move in the fear of missing
out on another delight, or on revolt against
holy wars for that matter. All the evidence
travels on roads layered with justice.
© Martha Landman
Oscar Pistorius trial
Martha writes in tropical North Queensland, Australia.
