Genealogy
From my mother, the eyes of a waltzing woman—
corners to be negotiated with care, on tiptoe at times,
occasionally turning up the music, tuning in to her dancing days
before rock’n roll, invoking pasts
of piano, sax and drums.
From father’s side, I swerved with the curve of horses
blinked through a long line of trainerspacers
, riders, and
who knew their place.
Horses that could walk extravagant,
that could canter into the journey, find their own way home.
My parents came together across tables of sheep and wheat,
alive to the dance of growing and harvesting.
She had her garden—it was as if she could always
carry it with her, along with keys to the family.
Madam: Archbishop Fisher (July-August 2024) does not resist the attacks on his church by the political, social or scientific atheists and those who insist on not being told what to do.
Aug 29 2024
6 mins
To claim Aborigines have the world's oldest continuous culture is to misunderstand the meaning of culture, which continuously changes over time and location. For a culture not to change over time would be a reproach and certainly not a cause for celebration, for it would indicate that there had been no capacity to adapt. Clearly this has not been the case
Aug 20 2024
23 mins
A friend and longtime supporter of Quadrant, Clive James sent us a poem in 2010, which we published in our December issue. Like the Taronga Park Aquarium he recalls in its 'mocked-up sandstone cave' it's not to be forgotten
Aug 16 2024
2 mins