ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

WALK SOFTLY ON MY COUNTRY

THE MOTHER CALLS
Maureen Clifford © The Scribbly Bark Poet


Sleeping echoes of clap sticks lingered in his brain
and remnants of visions,
the camp fires
and dark silent figures,
lurked in the shadows.

He rose from his bed
and went to the open window.
Stood silent and cold as black marble.
Mockery to think this would suffice.

He heard the sirens of police, fire trucks and ambulance
rushing to yet another accident.
The only fire that burned here –
was in his heart.

A scattered handful of early morning joggers
ran along the hard, lifeless concrete pavements.
No red sand here – no gidgee, no roos.

What did they pursue?
They were not hunters.
They carried no spear or woomera,
only plastic drink bottles.

And the answer came, as he knew it would.
Spirit voices died into silence – they had done their job.
He was going home to country.
His land called…
The Mother called

Nicely done Maureen. I like the way you've captured his present thoughts and feelings and put them across with lines such as:

What did they pursue?
They were not hunters.
They carried no spear or woomera,
only plastic drink bottles.

You've also painted a vivid picture of his memories in the first stanza (love the first line) and then shown him so clearly in the present with: 'stood silent and cold as black marble', finishing with his future plan to go home. So past, present and future combine in a great poem - really enjoyed it.

What a lovely comment Catherine - I am delighted you saw the picture - thank you for reading

I have this one set up as an Audio as well - https://soundcloud.com/maureen-clifford ... sic-by-ash

Beautifully done with the didge in the background Maureen - and I like that you cut it off for the last line. Really enjoyed this

Thank you Catherine