Migrant+Hostel

Migrant Hostel

Parkes, 1949-1951

No one kept count Of all the comings and goings - Arrivals of newcomers In busloads from the station, Sudden departures from adjoining blocks That left us wondering Who would be coming next.

Nationalities sought Each other out instinctively - Like a homing pigeon Circling to get its bearings; Years and place-names Recognised by accents, Partitioned off at night By memories of hunger and hate.

For over two years We lived like birds of passage - Always sensing a change In the weather: Unaware of the season Whose track we would follow.

A barrier at the main gate Sealed off the highway From our doorstep - As it rose and fell like a finger Pointed in reprimand or shame; And daily we passed Underneath or alongside it - Needing its sanction To pass in and out of lives That had only begun Or were dying.