Our Uncle
Met our uncle in August 1996

It was a Thursday night

There was my little sister and me

He’d arranged it for a restaurant

Where we had a chat

And a family tea.
I hadn’t known a man’s affection

But when he embraced my sister

and I, I’ll have to admit

As a 40-year-old man

It did make me cry.
Our uncle gave us kisses on the

cheek

Said he’s been waiting

A million years

For this week.
We talked on reconciliation

All about his life

Our uncle is intelligent and bright

He said no amount of compensation

Could buy him what he had tonight.
When he asked of his big sister

The only one he had

We told him of her passing

24 years ago come November.
He asked my little sister

For a picture of our mum

So he could remember

He said he had never had one.
He held it to his heart

And wished he’d got to know her

To hold her hand in death

Be with her

In her final hour.
Thanks to the white authorities

60 years has passed

Since our family

Was torn apart.



Kevin ‘Dharug’ Saunders

Koori Mail p.6, no.158, 1997