Aborigines

Aboragines

A round Eucalyptus bark, gather,

B reathless groups of men, dark as cocoa,

O verlooking a rusty dome, Uluru, it is called.

R emembering an adolescence of gleaning,

I ndustrious in harnessing the abracadabra of a land;

G oing for a bath to a billabong, to a high on pituri,

I ndigenous, and still loyal to a land of fire. Proof that,

N o pale-skinned invaders can overthrow, ‘

E ons of midnight skin and sunny eyes at noon,

S howing to the white man, who encroached;

 

Dreamtime, is our own welfare system,

Made of sun woman & moon man,

Casuarina thickets & muddy waterholes,

 

While our perspiring bodies,

Fleet through the parched outback,

As spirit-powered utes.