Truth sits in a shattered home,
one time shelter to Mum,
Dad and two small boys:
Angels on the pinhead of politics,
blown over by a wayward wind.
Truth doesn’t pontificate,
brought up over millennia
to speak retrospectively;
a bottled message fizzing at her feet.
As light fades,
those who read translucent eyes
turn inland, seeking lost pathways
through a sorry human space.