Monday, 20 August 2012

Ribbons and Warriors


The ribbons are yellow and golden, hanging from hooks on a market stall. I take them one by one, slipping them into my bag.

But then I hesitate: these are not my golden ribbons at all.
They belong on the display.
Why would I have gone off with them secreted from the world? ...

... A warrior's shoulder fills my vision. Skin and fur clad - some medium-sized wild cat, I think.
 My vision pulls away to reveal thousands of warriors, spears to hand, advancing in one direction across the veld. ....

... Before falling asleep, I had asked the sacred question: Who has lived on this land before me?