I wake up to hear the jaibiro soaring over head
The camp fire burning low
I gather my dilly bag and coolaman
And set out to find my breakfast

I run into the dense bush
Where prickly echidnas run freely
Banksia and bottlebrush smell wonderfully sweet
Witchetty grubs and wild berries juicy to eat
I skip down the track admiring the kookaburras,
I gather wild flowers for my mother,
I hear in the distance calls from a didgeridoo.

The rain comes like a waterfall,
I rush over to the Yammilli creeper
Sheltered and safe from the storm
I hear strange voices calling from the bay
Gun shots fill the air.

People screaming, darting, shouting, dying
White men arrive, fight, destroy…………claim.