Brighton-le-sands

Yusuf walks by the beach, inhales air freighted with salt,
listens to sulphur-crested cockatoos screech like bombs.
He thinks of grandmother, Teta, her small-always-covered
body that mothered 10 children. She knew no English, her currency,
prayer 5 times a day. Yusuf trips, skins his knee,
leaves a red tulip of blood on the path.

Yissl walks by the beach, a benediction of sun on his skin.
He thinks of grandmother, Bubbe, of her thin forearm inked
with numbers he could never add or subtract. She prayed
every day, her smile an archive of forgiveness. Yissl trips,
skins his knee, leaves a red tulip of blood on the way.

Ioseph walks by the beach, listens to the cadence of waves
shoal the sand. He thinks of Yiayia, her prayer beads
still on his table. Black-clad since Pappou died, she worked
in a factory, worked at home. Ioseph trips, skins his knee,
leaves a red tulip of blood on the road.

Joey walks by the beach, his brown eyes flick at imagined police.
He thinks of Grannie, her minibus patrols to round up mob
before the police did, her stories, her laughter that recalibrates trauma.
Joey trips, skins his knee, leaves a red tulip of blood on country.

Joe walks by the beach, hears a colony of gulls gargle the wind.
He thinks of Grandma, she could knit a battleship from
steel wool, she loved the Queen, the Church of England,
elocution, scones, pots of tea. Joe trips, skins his knee,
leaves a red tulip of blood on the ground.

 ——————————————————–

Kate Lumley is a Sydney-based writer. Kate’s poetry and prose has been published in journals including Studio, Not very Quiet, Rochford Street Review and anthologies including Australian Love Poems 2013; Prayers of a Secular World; To end all wars; Avant la lettre; Messages from the Embers; Australian Poetry Collection and a chapbook View from the Bridge.

.
.