Cardboard hat

Trembling titanium, slowly descending,

tak tak tak tak tak tak …

pulling up at the island of the nomads, 

the evicted, the deserted and the left-behinds,

the stateless and the rootless diaspora.

The spirit beckons, fires up the totem,

pouring fuel and pungent rubber fumes.

The enchanted watches, spellbound,

writing myths and reseeding souls through rituals.

Resurrecting through burning; 

who tells the untold stories of survivals?

Whispered through frog eyes and a cardboard hat, 

Where is my net? My bag? My sling and my sack?