When my mother left there was fire –
The air ripe with the wrong things; tears, skin, fear
Feet bolting down dirt roads going nowhere
Liberty caged
Beyond the reach of black and brown hands
Too close and too far
Onto a boat and into the New World
Where the sky went on forever
Colour and space
Gumtrees
Birds that laughed and sang
Tires screeching down brand new highways
Shock
Adaption
Light
The old home sits there still
My mother’s first love
Beauty without warmth
Death with no birth
It beckons
Bleeds
But that story is over
Life is freer
And she is here
Think your name would look good in print? Woroni is always open for submissions. Email write@woroni.com.au with a pitch or draft. You can find more info on submitting here.
We acknowledge the Ngunnawal and Ngambri people, who are the Traditional Custodians of the land on which Woroni, Woroni Radio and Woroni TV are created, edited, published, printed and distributed. We pay our respects to Elders past and present. We acknowledge that the name Woroni was taken from the Wadi Wadi Nation without permission, and we are striving to do better for future reconciliation.