Bruce Dawe died on Wednesday, aged 90. He was one of Australia’s most loved poets, and one of the most accessible. During the Vietnam War, his poems ‘Weapons Training’ and ‘Homecoming’ made a big impression on me.
This is one of his poems from the 1990s that strikes a chord with me as one of the privileged ones who has water to wash my hands, a home to stay in, and a faltering NBN to keep me in touch with friends.
You and Sarajevo for Gloria Hearing the sound of your breathing as you sleep, with the dog at your feet, his head resting on a shoe, and the clock's ticking like water dripping in a sink – I know that, even if reincarnation were a fact, given the inherent cruelty of the world where beautiful things and people are blasted apart all the day long, I would never want to come back, knowing I could never be this lucky twice ...
Added later: Sue at ANZ LitLovers LitBlog has blogged at more length about Bruce Dawe, and there’s a write-up in the Sydney Morning Herald at this link.
Me fail? I fly! 