We follow her trail
in the songlines beneath the tide.
Where she swims, we remember
our grandmothers’ hands shaping stone knives,
and how they called to her—
gently, never in haste.
From A Poem A Day: Australasia & the Pacific
We follow her trail
in the songlines beneath the tide.
Where she swims, we remember
our grandmothers’ hands shaping stone knives,
and how they called to her—
gently, never in haste.
From A Poem A Day: Australasia & the Pacific
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