The Bushman Poem by Ashley Akari

I know how the silent stars
Burn and glitter in
The roaring night.

I feel the familiar nocturnal wind
Sweep over the red plains,
The rugged, brown landscape
Of my body.

Here beneath the old grey trees
And the huge, bronze nailed sky,
I take my roots in the
Red, red dust.

This is my mother,
This is my father,
This is my life in the dusty
Hot womb.

Let me roll my swag,
And hear the cicadas sing.
This hard earth’s so soft-
I’ll not ask for more.