{"id":709,"date":"2025-06-02T11:21:02","date_gmt":"2025-06-02T01:21:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ruralhealth.org.au\/stagingpartyline\/?p=709"},"modified":"2025-06-05T16:33:50","modified_gmt":"2025-06-05T06:33:50","slug":"poem-the-weight-of-dust","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ruralhealth.org.au\/partyline\/poem-the-weight-of-dust\/","title":{"rendered":"Poem: “The Weight of Dust.”"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

It\u2019s dark when the call comes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Stars, still cold before dawn<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Wind hisses through saltbush,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

red dust rising in thin spirals.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The girl is young,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

worn thin by the night,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

hair damp against her skin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The baby arrives in a rush\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

wet, wailing,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

a cry sharp as tin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Light flickers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Blood pools on lino.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

4:53am.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He\u2019s perched on the step,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

like he might bolt.
Rough hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She sits\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

no clipboard,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

no questions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He speaks sideways:
footy,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

lambing,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

a cousin<\/p>\n\n\n\n

who didn\u2019t make it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The psych\u2019s in on Tuesdays.
He shrugs.
She stays.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mrs B\u2019s eyes are bright today.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Don\u2019t look at me like I\u2019m gone,\u2019 she snaps.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The nurse laughs, warm and thick.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They don\u2019t speak of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The fence groans,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The wattle wilts.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

They speak in shorthand\u2013<\/p>\n\n\n\n

grudges, grandkids,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

who\u2019s still kicking,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

who\u2019s gone quiet. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The heat folds in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis place,\u201d she says,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cgets in your bones.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The nurse smiles knowingly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaybe that\u2019s why we stay.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After supper\u2013
plastic plates scattered,
the TV\u2019s static hum.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The daughter smooths his brow,
suitcase waiting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A breath held\u2014
A breath released.
Stillness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Red dust follows her home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She leaves her boots by the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tomorrow waits\u2013<\/p>\n\n\n\n

already calling her name. <\/p>\n

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\r\n \r\n\r\n \"Red\r\n\r\n <\/a>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n \r\n Poem: “The Weight of Dust.” <\/a>\r\n\r\n

\r\n It\u2019s dark when the call comes. Stars, still cold before dawn Wind hisses through saltbush, red dust rising in thin Read more<\/a> <\/p>\r\n <\/div>\r\n

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\r\n \r\n\r\n \"Creation\r\n\r\n <\/a>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n \r\n Weaving Culture into Care at Northeast Health Wangaratta <\/a>\r\n\r\n

\r\n During 2025 NAIDOC staff at Northeast Health Wangaratta (NHW) had an opportunity to participate in a group weaving activity. This Read more<\/a> <\/p>\r\n <\/div>\r\n \r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n