Ancestral Voices And I'M Listening Poem by Bernadette Hall
Ancestral Voices And I'M Listening
We're doin' alright
in this little land
we stole from the Maoris
ancestral Irish voices
raw, self-mocking, tough
when things got rough
they didn't make a song
and dance of it
they laughed, got drunk,
they called a spade
a spade and when I wanted
praise, why, you're the girl
your mother forgot to drown
was good enough.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
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4/24/2024 2:23:15 PM # 1.0.0.1119
