Bernadette Hall

(Alexandra)

Ancestral Voices And I'M Listening - Poem by Bernadette Hall

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.


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, October 17, 2013

Poem Edited: Wednesday, October 23, 2013


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