Academic journal article Social Alternatives

My Mob

Academic journal article Social Alternatives

My Mob

Article excerpt

The Belconnen crows are caw-caw-cawwwwwing,

mournful this September morning

though it's sunlit cheerful casting long shadows

and the air is warming.

One fixes a wary eye on me

as I approach,

wind lifting shiny black feathers.

There's calculation in its gaze: it stands its ground.

I nod my head

and swing around

giving it a wide berth:

there's room enough for both of us

and no need to prevail.

Amid dashes of red bottlebrush,

a collage of yellow wattle, hanging

splashes of blossom announce it's spring

and all around birds on the wing.

Descending into Brisbane from Dallas

a man two rows back leans across,

says to the man two chairs away,

I guess it's back to the griiiiiiiiiiiind

and there it is, in wry intonation,

in the gruff self-deprecating voice with a lilt of humour,

my homecoming, all that I've missed in a seven word capsule,

and I'm a tuning fork, vibrating,

something irrepressible and absent returning to me,

my face and its joyous grin. …

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