Rebecca White: Away He Went
Away He Went
My grief is a vine, strangling my heart
Locked in an inaccessible vault
I can’t feel it directly, it’s so repressed
But I know that it’s there, never been addressed
It comes out overtly, I’m clinically depressed
Who planted the seed, which grew the vine?
The devil himself, when he took what was mine
Four babies lost to abortion, dead before their time
Oh, the devil grinned as I gave consent
To have my children killed, I could smell his scent
And he took my joy and away he went
Rebecca White
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