Boab Tree

By | 1 August 2012

(Adansonia gregori)

Squat I be,
swollen, grotesque.
rotund, not yet circular.
From deep beneath draw I my knowledge.
Warmun be my country, my dreaming …

A thousand years
have I been
raising branch to sky,
my frail witch hands into blue
nurturing the Gija; these be my people.

Now lament they
my departure.
Ripped from my heart-place
I journey south into exile.
where menfolk sing me to their earth

to soil that chills my soul.
I be alien here,
where rivers run on salt plains.
This be Nyoongar country,
not my country, not my dreaming …

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