Dominic Middleton Poet Free verse

That Cold Morning In May

That cold morning in May                               


                  Budjiti


Slowly I walk
Between the dunes
That protected this
Tribe from the 
Cold winds of
June
Forever an Dreaming
It held them tight
Their smiles once
Beaming on its sight
These dunes were
Comfort
Shelter
And safe
A place
On their ancestral
Journey along
The dry and dusty 
Paroo
Then along came the
Ghost men
And there foreign ways
Happened upon them 
On this cold morning
In May
There fire sticks
Rang out amongst
The screams and cries
They slaughtered this
Tribe that Dreaming had
Provide
One survived

Slowly I walk
Between these
White weathered
Old dreams of the
Budjiti
A mournful desert 
Crow call
Heralds my presence
In these dunes
That didn't protect
This tribe
On that cold
Morning in May 



Authors Note
I am honoured that the Budjiti people
trusted me to tell one of their stories.
I know that I haven't done it justice
I don't think anyone could.

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Mark Toney December 28, 2018 at 1:14 AM Dominic, this is a very interesting story. Very tragic. I’m glad one survived. ~Mark Dominic Middleton March 24, 2019 at 7:53 PM Same Mark, genocide is complicated. But sadly this story is repeated all over Australia.