Poem: Another Day
In this week’s Poet’s Corner, Lindy Warrell contributes a poem about her former home of Aldinga Bay.
Another Day
Aldinga Bay luminous in winter sun, my first walk in years. I follow a new path along ochre cliffs where once, I ran down countless steps to squelch toes in the sands of incoming tides and laugh, my little dog Lolo by my side. He died. Clarrie is seven now an Aussie Terrier, lame as I am breathless. We are a steadfast pair yet, today, my walk is solitary, a practice; I tread the distance between west-facing, waiting-for-sunset seats bequeathed in grief for the already dead on whose memory I sit. Gasps become sighs. A slight swell catches my eye waves glisten and break on a limestone shelf where crabs, snails, periwinkles, worms – intertidal creatures – slide, scurry, hide in the sponge gardens, pools and ponds of salty ebb-tide shallows. Above, dogs sniff, search, splash and scamper. They bark: Come, you, too, can play. Revived, I thrill. Yes, my heart whispers, Clarrie and I will join in the fun. Another day.
Lindy Warrell is a retired anthropologist who studied and taught at the University of Adelaide. She did field work in Sri Lanka, towards her PhD in the anthropology of myth, ritual and religion. She also worked across Australia for a number of years as a consultant on Aboriginal heritage matters, mostly in the Top End of the Northern Territory. As a child she lived in Japan, but being a publican’s daughter she was born and raised in outback pubs, including The Transcontinental Hotel in South Australia’s Oodnadatta. She loves jazz, the bush and the ocean, and is about to revise the first draft of her first novel, though increasingly time is being spent on poetry.
