A Table in the Wilderness
I see a forest and a clearing, and in the clearing is a table.
If I find the chairs I’ll let you know. We’ll sit.
Drink water from a stream lapping at our feet;
eat leaves fallen from the trees; wildflowers for dessert;
a mushroom for an after-dinner snack. We’ll lie down
in soil and moss, heads pillowed by soft bark of stringy gum.
Wake to find the moon gleaming from a barn owl’s eyes;
hear a field mouse scamper; find stars tangled in our hair.
We’ll pray to the night; dream of snake and bandicoot;
fire, storm and thunder; rain will fall – rise around us;
we’ll float. Over undergrowth of weeping grass;
tussock and lomandra; over mountains, desert,
paddock, highway; farm and campsite; village, city
and suburbia. Stop
in the middle of a street. And beg
for peace on earth; bat away the laughter
of the cynical and jaded; non-believer
and the ruthless; wipe tears from the desperate;
the childless/homeless/hopeless/jobless/mindless/
stateless/lost, who would gladly swap world peace
for a seat at someone else’s table.
Linda McQuarrie-Bowerman lives and writes poetry in Lake Tabourie, NSW, Australia, in traditional Yuin country, and enjoys seeing her poetic work published in various literary spaces. Most recently, she won the 2023 Mindfood Magazine and the 2024 Mulga Bill poetry awards.
See more of Linda's work in 10.3