Lidgeun

Cindy Solonec         

I am from the history that is hidden 

Of stories long lost, that are being resurrected 

For all Australians to savour 

Of living in the bush 

On a small station, waiting for visitors 

I am a small child 

With my brother 

Screaming as they appeared 

Through the bush 

Aunty Maggie and Uncle Rodney 

They had walked in from the main road 

My brother and I, thinking they were ghosts 

‘Wot wrong wit chu?’ 

They scolded and laughed 

‘Where we gunna get muttacar to come ere? 

We come to vishit 

Might be stay, help em Mummy and Daddy 

Warder em garden 

Round em up jeep’ 

They camped in the Blackfullas’ camp 

100 yards from the homestead 

That laugh. Aunty Maggie’s 

Her bush name is Lidgeun   

Why does she have to have an English name? 

I am sitting on the ground with her 

As she watered the garden 

Flooding the plants 

Then she was helping Mum 

Lifting hot irons off the wood stove 

Pressing white school blouses that had been starched 

Preparing our clothes for boarding school 

The cases stacked on the closed-in verandah 

Ready for the journey south 

The cats wandering around, sniffing 

Knowing we were going away, again 

The clouds thickened 

Down came torrential rain 

Just in time 

For three weeks, no break in the clouds 

The road impassable 

Three weeks longer with Lidgeun. Hooray.