AMIDA
TRUST

Poetry

The Deadlands

by Prasada Caroline Brazier

They are opening the dead-lands today
Taking away the skeletons of wire, whose jagged barbs,
Like the unseen dying, bound the land.
Mesh gates swing on rusted hinges,
To break a century of silence.

Our vehicles drive deserted roads
That stretch between the scrub, grim travesties of plants
A hundred miles or more
The instrument clicks within permitted levels
Marking time.

Blighted hillsides sectioned by fallen fences and tangled farm tracks
And time by time a farmstead
Betrayed upon its mother soil
Beside the stream which brought it life

At mid-day when the sun was high and angry in the sky
We reach a farm house
Suckled in a copse of withered trees and half invaded by encroaching weeds
Which thrived.
We enter seeing rest
A world, frozen in archaic charm.

The loaf of bread lies on the kitchen table, hardened by the years
A child's toy where it fell
Lost in the scrambled salvage
As they fled
To what perverted end?

They have opened the dead-lands today
And woken ghosts who left no memories


P.C.J. Brazier
1986

NOTE: This poem was written after the Chernobyl disaster when a nuclear power station became lethal in Russia in 1986