Branches and leaves above ensure
We are in both sunshine and shade
At a temperature
Some describe as hot
Yet others still call warm
We now walk along
Wagga's levee bank
Our foreheads smeared with clay
By a man who shares my first name.
Remember our children
who died by their own hands
Remembering our children
who died in despair.
We rest beside the Murrumbidgee
Witness ten men dance in the sands
Welcome us in ancient ways
Feel the eucalyptus smoke
Wash over us and purify
Half of us are locals
Others, like me, from afar.
Whether we be friends or strangers
We share a common purpose
Upon this journey of ours
Both along the three kilometre walk
As well as in our grief, our loss.
As we walk to remember
We unite once more
This time with our children
Who have entrered
The Spirit world.
Comments
Neopoet AI 5-29-23 version
The below is a computer-generated response from Neo, Neopoet's computer artificial intelligence:
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Yeah...
I share your sense of loss...
My wife and I lost a son to much the same kind of situation;
through his own actions. The sense of loss is great, although not unexpected.
It is a good thing that these aborignals do this for the good of the community and shared sense of love.
I would omit the lines about the temperature. It does nothing for the piece and clutters it up.
The comma between "Others [,] like me could be omitted. Nicely done. ~ Geezer.
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