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  3. Spring

Spring

By Annabel B

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Published 26 September 2024


I taste the salty sea air and fish.

I feel the warm sand and the soggy seaweed.

I see the playful park and children climbing a tall tree with an itchy rope.

I smell the sweet pollen getting turned into honey.

I hear the rattling leaves on the tree.


Project

POEM FOREST

Poem Forest

2024 Submissions

Author

  • Annabel B

    Torrens Primary School
    Year 2
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Red Room Poetry acknowledges the Elders and Traditional Custodians of the lands, waters, sky and languages where we work, live and write. We are grateful to collaborate with First Nations people and aim to respectfully follow protocols as we move across Country.


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Ngurambang yali – Country speaks
~ Jeanine Leane

It’s been too long since I sat on granite in my
Country and thought

Too many years since I breathed this air—
Bunyi-ng—ganha
Felt this dirt—Ngamanhi Dhaagun
Smelt this dust—Budha—nhi Bunan

Listened for the sounds of her words that say
‘Balandha—dhuraay Bumal-ayi-nya Wumbay
abuny (yaboing)’—History does not have the
first claim. Nor the last word.
Nghindhi yarra dhalanbul ngiyanhi gin gu 
‘You can speak us now!’

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