Canterbury Reflection

I saw Possu And we stood beside the old Calvary church Where the banks now run their business From the old house of God Two old men out of a place stitched with poverty Remembering the patches And how our noble heroes died Before the slander of the state Before the river of bullets rose in spate Of lies, since their demise cover the lies Of men in the figment of honorable lives And in the callous up and down Of evening crowd No one saw the old man cried Something in the past His Canterbury had died His pilgrim dreams were no more. When I met Joe There was nothing left to talk about.