Nana Ollerenshaw: Two Poems
Tribute
Someone out there
crossmatched
A, O, AB, or B,
has gifted me
the closest kind of intimacy,
unpaid,
not seeking recognition,
just wishing well.
I watch red drops
my heart in flood
for the unknown soldier
in my blood.
Nana Ollerenshaw
The Goodbye Woman
A hand of green bananas
would surely see her out.
She’d soon not be about,
her little life well rounded with a sleep.
She thanked her doctors
one by one,
her specialists and pharmacists
for all they’d said and done,
threw away her x-rays, pills,
her blood results, and files
past testament to
months and years of trials.
She wondered if each coffee
was her last
and finally, reluctantly,
she gave away her dog.
Her mobile phone demobilised,
she tidied up her home
took a breath
and said Goodbye
to all her friends and family,
but … didn’t die.
Confused, perplexed,
because she had this extra time
she thought she’d try
a cruise, deciding someone else
could choose
what happened next.
Nana Ollerenshaw
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