By Bill Cotter
William Cotter poem on Right Now

The river that rumbled through winter
And survived the welting winds and the sun each summer,
Limps, now, fitfully, through putty mud.
Along the scoured banks the dry roots of trees curl upon themselves.
Where grey teals pelted the sky with wings
And splashed down like bursting shrapnel,
Sour pools remain
And in them lie bloated, eyeless fish.
In the shrinking shallows wallow cod,
Grotesque as stranded submarines

And upstream
The greedy run their fingers through rivers of cotton and rice.


Brolgas art work by Phoebe McIlwraith

NGALI GARIMA MALLA JUGUN (We Look After This Country) – A call for submissions

Key Dates: Submissions open March 7 Submissions close April 6 NGALI GARIMA MALLA JUGUN  (we look after this Country) Through a new editorial partnership, Right Now and Groundswell are platforming stories that explore the intersection of climate change and human rights, pertaining to First Nations justice. ‘NGALI GARIMA MALLA JUGUN’ is a series of pieces […]