Kerri Shying R # 19 The Home Songs - The Murru of the Mothers

The Home Songs

1. The Murru of the Mothers

It almost seems impossible

yet here we are

Atlas shrugs off chance as fast as any change

no goal no plan

our murru

like all mothers

we just made it up

I tied your kid to a chair 

for sulking

your frangipani fell on mine

loaded with ten year olds

who fled across the suburb

like fire

bearded men full grown now

women of their own

they have secrets we meet to decipher

together

groping pathless sand

breathing in step, 

stubborn, solid

breasts hung down like sugar bags

we watch

and wait for our promotion

**murru = path/journey

Wiradjuri language NSW