Fringe Dweller

Which culture
Where do you go from here?

Where will you go?

Another two hundred years
Is not negotiable

You must embrace something
You must belong

Full blood you are not
Hunter gatherer you are not
Tribesman you are not

Is the blaming not enough now?
Cook and the Europeans are long gone

Has the modern white man not opened his heart?
Has the true Aborigine not opened his heart?

Will you not take the bitumen road to success?

Is two hundred years of living on the fringe?

Not pain enough?

I wish you well my friend
For I will be gone before you choose

5 thoughts on “Fringe Dweller

  1. In such beuty I see you opening the heart of the world. Of me..
    Beutiful with an ocean between..

  2. yes, the choices we make, and the choices others make for us. this poem has resonance in other pockets of the world. thanks for sharing. reminds me of a poet from PEI, Canada. they say he writes with a sledge-hammer…i think you also write with a sledge-hammer.


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