Balut — For Lolo

I met you,
but I wish I hadn’t.
When you speak, I wish there was quiet
like bush-stone curlews
when death will not visit.

Someone passed today,
the head of a family
the leader of immigrants
the head of a flock
of great Philippine eagles

from the islands of chocolate hills
and pickled duck’s eggs.
A warrior, a family man
a grandfather to me
when mine left this earth.

Your politics are that he should not be here
him, or his family of eagles.
One nation you say; closed borders.
But without them, I would be alone
if not for them
all I would have is you
and you left me
when I was still a pickled egg.

Author: Taylor-Jayne Wilkshire

TJ Wilkshire is a Brisbane based artist, aspiring writer, and forever-student. Wilkshire’s writing is inspired by Australian poets such as Ellen Van Neerven, Robert Adamson, Oodgeroo Noonuccal and Judith Beveridge and draws from them their native wildlife observations and its connection to human social life. In both her writing and her art Wilkshire is primarily concerned with suburban life and birds. She lives with her neurotic poodle, Angel, collects snow globes, and has an ever-growing addiction to coffee. View all posts by Taylor-Jayne Wilkshire