DIGGERS

So many distractions;

But can you stop awhile?

Stare at the ocean,

Imagine it lapping

On coasts far away

In other places

And, even, long ago.

On that narrow beach -

A fortress cove,

Impregnable.

Across the channel -

Trenches in the mud,

Ballets by Spandau.

Fickle waters

That fail to drench

The dreaded deserts

Of a once holy land.

And ports and harbours

Throughout old empires -

Now benighted lands of other gods.

Warm tropical streams

That wind around

The islands to our north

And the jungles

And cities

Beyond their beaches.

A hundred years?

Where have they gone?

All the men are gone -

Some then and some,

It seems, only yesterday.

Sentenced to death,

Or life in a prison

Of melancholy,

Memories

And late friends

Missing from the march -

Men sacrificed for us.

They can protest

No more

When we recast

Their history.

Best not to glorify

With postmodern words

That actually belittle

Their spirits

And fling false motives

Into the restless sea

Of history refined.

Best only to be

Thankful, humble, silent,

And stare at the ocean,

Imagine it lapping

On coasts far away

In other places

And, even, long ago.

The painting is one of Ben Quilty's depictions of veterans of the war in Afghanistan.