It is the sand gives birth to us -
Dry grit, and thirst.
The children of the riverbed
Walk the chasms between granite plugs,
The snouts of monsters long buried in dirt.
Sing the songs of this ancient country -
Four-mile razor mountains eroded into dusty flats.
Note the slowness of this endless change.
Pace the detritus of the sacred bone fragments.
Sing songs of water to a smoky sky.
Nisaba Merrieweather was born in 1960 and is not yet dead. She started writing in 1969 at age eight, and hasn't worked out how to stop. Thankfully, all her output before this century has been lost. She is a storyteller and poet, and has won or placed in over 70 online poetry competitions in the last fifteen years. She has one novel currently being considered for publication, two others waiting for another final edit, a fourth in progress, and a fifth idea eagerly waiting its turn. Some of the prevailing themes explored in her work are the alienation in our society of marginalised people especially aging women, dark humour, LGBTQI life-experience, spirituality, and philosophy. Since the covid plague forced an early retirement on her, she has become more serious about her writing, and has found a second home in the Outback Writers' Centre.