The Year They

The year they built the church
at the end of our street
we watched
with impassive curiosity.
Bethlehem Lutheran
we spelled from the board.
What kind of church is that?
Some kind of Germans
the neighbours grunted
shaking their heads.
New Australians.

We weren’t really surprised.
It was at the dark end of the street
the loopy dangerous end
where the wolves and witches lived.

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