Landmines
I was a tourist
When walking off the beaten track
A passer-by
Keep five metres apart
A pilgrim to the house of gods, sacred shrines, a city temple.
Three hundred years of building
Muscles straining, dragging, heaving laterite.
Hands deftly carving, sculpting bas relief,
in softest sandstone. Against a dry, relentless heat
are Vishnu, Shiva, Yama and the terrace of the Leper King.
In the event of an explosion
Mount Meru, Home to the Hindu gods
Do not assist the injured
A two day pass, a month of rice,
I devoured the Hall of Dancers, and House of Fire,
bought incense at the Buddha shrines.
Call for assistance, do not run
Sightseer, onlooker, I came to Angkor Wat,
left by the moat, the lake of lilies, that ringed the old, historic beauty.
Then looking down at palms outstretched,
those clear, brown eyes cut through my landlocked myth.
‘The soldiers told us to walk ahead across the fields’
He said, as explanation for his missing leg.
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