It’s only the 3rd of November and here’s my third stanza. Maybe I can keep this up, or maybe all hell will break loose when the 3rd of November hits the USA, and I’ll never write another verse.
November Verse 3: Joseph Prompted by the episode of ABC Radio's Conversations in which Annabel Bower talks to Sarah Kanowski about the experience of stillbirth. I don't know when I knew my mother had a son who died at birth, that I had one more older brother one who never walked the earth. I don't know when she told my sister Joseph was his name. A whispered revelation of old grief kept locked away from time, the thief? I know that when at seven, unknowing, I chose Joseph as my saint I saw no clue, however faint, that that old wound had started glowing, or maybe gave some ghostly joy by channelling the other boy.
Me fail? I fly! 
Twice for three still-births – the second occasion of twins – that latter occasion almost 30 years ago. Your story of your big brother – forever tiny – Joseph – from the times when little mention was made of such tragic events – moving – on behalf of your mother!
I was briefly yesterday in Sydney – Crows Nest, Ashfield and Eastwood – driving – no GPS – streetscapes totally changed. As I turned right from Arthur Street into Brighton Street – I realised that there – I spent a year boarding when at Sydney – and down there to my left – I had my first two years – transformed into a leafy street! I had a couple of hours with Paddy – in good spirits…
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Thanks, Jim.
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That’s beautiful, Jonathan
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Thank you!
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