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  3. Golden Hour

Golden Hour

By Hannah N

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Published 10 September 2021


A gentle breeze flutters through leaves.
A warm golden light illuminates the glade.
The open sky turns a light orange, speckled with clouds.
Lush emerald grass sways as the wind nudges it lightly.
As the sun disappears past golden hills, the clearing fades into early moonlight.


Project

Poem Forest 2021

Author

  • Hannah N

    Clarence High School
    Year 8
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Red Room Poetry acknowledges the Elders and Traditional Custodians of the lands, waters, sky and languages where we work, live and write. We are grateful to collaborate with First Nations people and aim to respectfully follow protocols as we move across Country.


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Ngurambang yali – Country speaks
~ Jeanine Leane

It’s been too long since I sat on granite in my
Country and thought

Too many years since I breathed this air—
Bunyi-ng—ganha
Felt this dirt—Ngamanhi Dhaagun
Smelt this dust—Budha—nhi Bunan

Listened for the sounds of her words that say
‘Balandha—dhuraay Bumal-ayi-nya Wumbay
abuny (yaboing)’—History does not have the
first claim. Nor the last word.
Nghindhi yarra dhalanbul ngiyanhi gin gu 
‘You can speak us now!’

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