Recall: light of day, our limelight,
no peace or armistice, just difference.
Branch and hessian fortress,
clods of clay thrown
without mercy. No prisoners.
War comics, tales of the Apache
in landscape bare as the eye
can make, fearless. Victors. Unread,
they fell at our feet. Resistance
as vague as tales, chemistry
of warriors. We churned dust
to cover tracks, unravel trails.
On bikes, with bamboo lances drawn,
cut from folly, patch of exotica,
resisting drought, resisting
slash and burn, we charged:
crusaders in cardboard armour,
corrugated shields;
cultural anathema
below our Western stars;
for seven years we fought
crows and magpie larks,
parrots at fruit trees, pigs messing
freshly-laid straw—ladders
of gold up pepper trees, dark
but for small sharp berries,
and shade they brought
when enemies passed
beneath.