The Day The Sea Turned Brown
We sat on the half-moon verandah of my great aunt's bungalow – rondavel of black volcanic rock with a straw…
we will meet here to break up, you say,
where the first airplane flamed overhead,
horses raced, rifles ranged at leisure, not tigers,
first for the shock of the new blatant in sky,
second for spilling cash at the finish line,
third for the luxury of aiming at second-rate
targets, and it was here Nippon forced Malays,
Indians, to lay down their arms, here the first
rallies and elections, here the campaign
for self-government, first for the submission
of one to another, second for speaking up,
for taking sides, third for even if you
are gone, when the Queen visits I
will flutter and prance and dream in English
