Wild as a black Darug crow

She is lead on a chain. Behind a horse, arse in her face


black tail, flies flicking


The man shouts, his eyes

on her breast. Ragged white fella dress


Handed a tin pannikin of tea. Blessed drink. A sigh.

She stares at his boots. Fresh from kicking?

Refuses to look, rather sees his smashed skull

thinks how she’ll flee. 

Spit forms on his lips, curled, pale and bloodless

Shoot ya! She had no fear of: shoot ya.


She climbs trees, to spirit places


Dissolving in leaves, bark, sap and tree heart.

Become a tree like her father, fly like crow

Totem carved in triangles

Incised his chest, raised welts of ash.


Not like this skinny white fella


Snake belly skin, feeble and cruel. Arms like worms. Bandicoot nose.


Shoot ya he says and she cannot be touched .