The year my daughter was born
I thought maybe we were starting to get it right after all
A woman was prime min­ister of Aus­tralia
And Julia was elo­quent and sharp
And fought for justice, cli­mate,
all the ways (we thought)
You’d expect a prime min­ister to be
And there was a black Pres­ident in America,
A man who prom­ised us hope
And we hadn’t yet heard of drones
And we hadn’t learned yet how often
We’d need to say
Black lives matter
And “stay woke”
And we hadn’t yet been faced with
The overkill of a 10-flag press con­fer­ence
Assuring us all that we weren’t any­where near
As scared as we needed to be yet
But that Abbott was working on it,
Don’t you worry about that.