Monday, December 26, 2016

Kerri Shying R #168 - String Symphony


String  symphony

It was the red string held them all together
 the constant of the murru

red string stood in for shoelaces
 in the one pair of shoes on your great-great-grandfather’s

feet   purchasing a bush block out
 where everybody scoffed   red strings

are on our bibs turned in from bias binding
 run up by our Nanna  there we throw our bottles

on the floor for fun  smashing   living in the garage
 who was the first baby born inside that house?

Dad would do your hair when Mum went off
 to get another baby   string, ribbon it was all

the same to him   one plait
 tight enough to give you Chinaman’s eye

the other loose as a shetland’s tail
 It was all the same to him   it was the red string pulling

held us all together on the same path same people
 pull it home to centre

wrap it how you might.



Murru = journey/path Wiradjuri NSW

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