Attap
All above me
Is gold
Gleaming in the sun
Darkened in rain
Hand harvested
Hand woven
Pleated fineness
Stern stuff made to last
Forever is a long time
But last it will, a long time
Not forever
Her Story 28 March 2019 Like a million other stories. Scattering across our pain. Inside ravenous hearts. Only wanting more. Here is her life. She was born, fair of face. At 6 her father died. Her mother ill. They took her siblings away to other homes. No one wanted her. She is too young to do housework. Her mother recovered. She remained. Her uncle allowed her to learn to read. At least. There was no school. At 18, she was married. To a man a decade ahead of her in years. In life, a lifetime separated them. He with fancy cars. He with cameras. He with his handsomeness. He with his ways she never fathomed, all her life. Her firstborn died. Four children followed. All fair of face. Like her, wide-eyed. Fine. Life rolled along. Work work work. Silent fears. She smiled. And kept her heart away. He died. But the taps worked. He had fixed them all. No one will do this for you he said. And unsaid, after I am gone. He knew. Nothing left. Her c...
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