The Sad Tale of Sebastian Becker

By Jenny Zimmerman. Woodend, VIC Listen to the author read this story by clicking the below arrow: My mother was a social worker and she told us stories about foster children. They were difficult. They were also very sad. They took chips and lollies to school instead of healthy lunches. I couldn't imagine not having… Continue reading The Sad Tale of Sebastian Becker

Happy First Mother’s Day to Olivia, My Granddaughter

By Lella Cariddi. Ivanhoe, VIC 25 April 2023 A splendid autumn morning. The weather forecaster announces that today the temperature will reach 25 degrees. My friend Jill and I are invited to a long lunch at the home of mutual friends, Julie and Con. Jill offers to pick me up by 10am. So much to… Continue reading Happy First Mother’s Day to Olivia, My Granddaughter

One Sacred Day

By Margaret McCaffrey. Melbourne, VIC Thirty-four years after my father’s death, I drove one frosty morning in 2010 to Melbourne’s Shrine of Remembrance. It’s a pyramid-shaped building keeping guard, sphinx-like, over the city. There, I joined the shivering, silent crowd huddled around the eternal flame for the pre-dawn service, as the bugle strains of The… Continue reading One Sacred Day

YOU’LL NEVER SEE THE WHITES OF THEIR EYES

By Brian John Pollock, Brighton, VIC In 1966 I was called up for a two year stint of National Service in the Australian Army. After six months basic training I was posted to C Squadron, 1st Armoured Regiment. I spent the next 18 months as a crew member of a Centurion tank. I served in… Continue reading YOU’LL NEVER SEE THE WHITES OF THEIR EYES

Ode to Wooden Boats

By Brian John Pollock, 77. Brighton, VIC For some people it might be fishingOr visiting places remote,But for me the ultimate pastimeIs building a wooden boat.It started in my childhoodBuilding boats out of scraps of wood,My father would take me to the beach to float themKnowing full well they never would. But that was never… Continue reading Ode to Wooden Boats

Patio Contemplation

By Brian John Pollock, 77. Brighton VIC “Out on the patio, we’d sit”Is an iconic Australian song line,A lyric conjuring powerful imageryFor Australians, so sublime. A simple pleasure for manyTo sit alone contemplating life,Out on the patio, glass in handTemporary respite from trouble and strife. For me serious contemplationIs best done outdoors, Perhaps it’s because it… Continue reading Patio Contemplation

Ode to Bondi Beach

By Brian John Pollock, 77. Brighton VIC I’m a twenty-something male, hale and heartyAnd like most people my age enjoy a party.I live in the greater Sydney LGAAnd go to Bondi beach nearly every day. I go to work and pay my taxesI’m not one of your anti-vaxers.I’m waiting ‘til the jab queues start to… Continue reading Ode to Bondi Beach

Geranium Decor

By Leonie, 78. Port Fairy, VIC A small geranium pokes its pink face through a hole in the fenceSiblings spread out in a riot of colours behind.Bright leggy blooms in patches so denseNeglected, half spent in the westerly windCrowding the path to a once fine weatherboard houseWith splayed grey boards like hag’s teeth creaking in… Continue reading Geranium Decor

My Body, My Ancestresses

By Gabrielle Everall, 54. Fitzroy, VIC TRIGGER WARNING: Sexual violence. I occupy and write on stolen land. My body was stolen on the stolen land that my ancestors stole. I inherit violence. I inherit intra-familial sexual abuse. I fell heir to sexual violence. Intra-familial sexual abuse was passed down to me. My foremothers had intra-familial… Continue reading My Body, My Ancestresses

Footscray, Our Playground

By Leonie, 78. Port Fairy, VIC                              Empty factories and the rail lines promised not to tell As we explored the inner sanctum of that steel and iron playground Palm trees lined the railway, growing low with fronds that formed a veil Where we could hide with bikes and all, the two of us not… Continue reading Footscray, Our Playground

Loss and Opportunity (Que Será, Será)

By Tessa, 65. Somers, VIC It came as a shock. Mid-morning, I was about to make coffee. My niece had died, suddenly. It was savage. It had been six months since her mother, my sister, died. A stroke and she was gone within 24 hours. There was nothing they could do, they said. It was… Continue reading Loss and Opportunity (Que Será, Será)

How Did I Ever Have Time to Work?

A brief reflection on adjusting to semi-retirement. By Tessa, 65. Somers, VIC Years back, a colleague of mine moved to New Zealand to live with her new partner. At the time, we were both Directors of Nursing at a large metropolitan health service. She gave up her high-powered job for love. But also, with the mind to… Continue reading How Did I Ever Have Time to Work?

The Flower in the Buttonhole

By John, 72. Kangaroo Ground, VIC I can remember it so clearly, as if it only happened yesterday: As I walked very briskly from the Foreign Correspondents’ Club of Japan I rehearsed my precise instructions. The stranger I was to meet would be loitering close to Hibiya Park fountain, where he or she would be… Continue reading The Flower in the Buttonhole

STAY STRONG

By Johanna Elizabeth, 70. Melbourne, VIC Time to look ahead,Remember, don’t be leadInto places where you don’t want to go. Stand tall, breathe and just let it flow. Ask for help if that’s what you need,Don’t look back, look ahead and lead. Look for reasons to just keep going. Believe in yourself and your light will be glowing.  … Continue reading STAY STRONG