My Sister’s Leg (Poem)

By Greg Pritchard | 04 Jan 13

By Greg Pritchard. This poem is part of our December 2012 and January 2013 focus on Asylum Seekers.

 

From where I am lying I can see my sister’s leg

Like a long stemmed rose against marble

My ears are ringing and all I hear is music

The sun is warm and bathes us in orange light

Like snow, or spring blossom, dust falls

Covering everything with layer of fine white

I know I am dying, I feel the cold run into my gut

I don’t need to look to know I am damaged

One cannot expect to survive a blast like that

I can see my sister’s leg

But her body is nowhere to be seen.

 

Greg Pritchard has a PhD in literature and a Masters in Visual Art. He is a writer, visual and conceptual artist, performer and is co-producer of Thieves Theatre. He is currently the Regional Arts Development Officer for the Western Riverina but will leave this position shortly to travel to Senegal for an arts residency.