Malacca House by James Aitchison

(on a coast road in Malaysia)

Behind the gates, unnoticed in defeat,
A mansion dreams of golden days now lost.
Her fanlight windows in her black-stained shell
Gaze blind, and sea winds toss her loosened shutters.
Monsoons have breached her roof,
Hastening her farewell.
Here once came Chinese merchants
To this rich man’s citadel,
Their gilded motors parked along her drive,
And on her pretty lawns beneath the palms
Swing played on gramophones.
Lost in pleasure’s arms,
Small-breasted girls danced before the War;
Milky, flimsy memories in the swollen heat.

James Aitchison is an Australian author and poet.