Poem by Walha Udi Marvyn McKenzie Snr, Port Augusta, South Australia
Read more: http://www.creativespirits.info/aboriginalculture/politics/stolen-generations-stories.html#ixzz1hACkatdo
Take your old brown feet and walk
Make footprints that will stand the test of time forever
Make handprints of ochre along the way
Whiteman coming many things clever
And little or no knowledge of the Never Never
Don’t want to write about anything tonight. Been flooded in another day. There’s some good flood stories floating about I might get to them one day. And though I don’t feel like writing, I’ll go for my 250 words. The frogs are about tonight. My daughter tells me they are so loud at their place that she can’t even record her presentation for uni and her mother-in-law says that in the 30 years she has lived there, she’s never heard anything like it and is closing her French doors of a night – something she don’t even do in Winter.
And now we have the frogs here. The big water birds still haven’t come back. I suspect more flooding if they don’t come back for a bit. I thought we were going to town today. My girl rang and they had come in the back way over the dirt roads. Right, says I. We’ll meet you there and have lunch. The pair of us dressed fast as and into the Starwagon to meet the family in town. We splashed through a bit of water on the driveway, powered on to the road to the Highway – and STOPPED. The road was maybe 200 metres impassable underwater. Bugger.
Home again. Home again.
Hear tell that SES has been stringing ropes across flooded spots and sending foods and medicines in. I like the SES down here a lot better than I liked the ones we encountered in Ulmarra. Then again – this is not a TERRIFYING flood whereas that one in 2009 was full on TERRIFYING.
This is a seeping, soggy, sodden, saturated flood is all.
I like the neighbours as well. People are pretty good to one another at times. This is one of those times.