BALLAD Poem: Ballad of Veronica, by David Brickey Bloomer
POETRY READINGS
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1m 50s
Poetry by Val Cole
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POEM:
Ballad of Veronica
You fixed the pipes and mended bikes,
swept dust before the dawn;
jackfruit smoked upon the fire,
the kettle always on.
You raised a daughter through the war,
through jungle dark and town laid down;
and sometimes, when the nights grew long,
we asked: where’s the lady now?
You fed the scorpion and the snake,
the creatures others feared to take;
no life too fierce, no thing too small—
you found a place and fed them all.
The jungle paths remembered you
where orchids bloom from bloodied ground;
you knew which roots could dull the pain
when soldiers came around.
You spoke but little of the past—
of burned-out homes or vanished men;
the river carried what you knew
beyond the reach of pen.
But when the wind came down the hills
with gunfire in its breath,
you stood like stone beside the door
and waited there with death.
The others fled through rain and smoke,
their lanterns shaking through the brown;
and someone in the dark still asked:
where’s the lady now?
But you were there with kettle warm
while storms tore through the town—
and slowly then we understood
the lady had been found.
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