Kindred

skin dweller
rooted to the very scalp
of sentience

I feel your
throbbing in my
solar plexus

the blood-pulse
in my heart’s
sun spirit

tall rough-barked
syphon drawing
sap to leaf

breath to bedrock
always two-ways
never

one-dimension
never one-way whitefella
false economy

your wealth can
only be measured
old-way

skinship way how
you are
my grandmother

my grandfather
my brother
my sister

how you are
my lungs
my laughter

my serenity
my longevity
how your being

nourishes every
dimension of me
this skin

you your kin
are our true Elders
the truly strong

the truly wise
you were here
before me

your broad-palmed
fingers plucked
wind music from

the sky before I
learned to hear
will paint

water-colour skies
long after my eyes
will see them

your shelters
enshrine the rituals
of our lives

map the orbits
of our immortality like
charted nebulae