Confetti and streamers, jubilant change
proclaimed from windows in the business districts.
In far-flung provinces, a more tempered watch—
change comes slower where people live
in the shadowy in-between. Rebels still populate
the hills, come out to collect their tithe. Put
a gun in the hands of anyone with a grievance
and take a gamble on the outcome. Who lost
their land, their titles, in the takeover?
Such business goes back and farther back
to feudal times. I know of a wealthy clan
that once laid claim in northern territories.
What underwrote their vow to side with the people?
Their own fall from grace, their dispossession.