#Australians #Women
Now my five senses gather into a meaning all acts, all presences; and as a lily gathers the elements together,
Glassed with cold sleep and dazzle… out of the confused hammering dark… I looked and saw under the moon’s… your delicate dry breasts, country… and the small trees on their uncol…
Now let the draughtsman of my eyes… marking the line of petal and of h… Let the long commentary of the bra… be silent. Evening and the earth a… and bird and tree are simple and s…
Tunnelling through the night, the… in a splendour of power, with a so… shaking the orchards, waking the young from a dream, scattering… the old mens’ sleep, laying
He thrust his joy against the weig… climbed through, slid under those… foam— (hawthorn hedges in spring, thorns… How his brown strength drove throu…
When summer days grow harsh my thoughts return to my river, fed by white mountain springs, beloved of the shy bird, the bellb… whose cry is like falling water.
So here, twisted in steel, and spo… your sunlight hide, smelling of de… they crushed out your throat the t… you sang in the dark ranges. With… you mourned him! - the drinker of…
That time of drought the embered a… burned to the roots of timber and… The crackling lime-scrub would not… and Mooni Creek was sand that yea… The dingo’s cry was strange to hea…
The day was clear as fire, the birds sang frail as glass, when thirsty I came to the creek and fell by its side in the grass. My breast on the bright moss
The small blue Arab stallion danc… like a glancing breaker, like a st… In his prick-ears, the wind, that… sings of the dunes of Arabia, lion… The small blue stallion poses like…
Along the road the magpies walk with hands in pockets, left and ri… They tilt their heads, and stroll… In their well-fitted black and whi… They look like certain gentlemen
The blacksmith’s boy went out with… and a black dog running behind. Cobwebs snatched at his feet, rivers hindered him, thorn branches caught at his eyes…
We meet and part now over all the… we, the lost company, take hands together in the night,… the night in our brief happiness,… We, who sought many things, throw…
Over the west side of the mountain… that’s lyrebird country. I could go down there, they say, i… and I’d see them, I’d hear them. Ten years, and I have never gone.
I saw our golden years on a black… our time of love spilt in the furi… ‘O we are winter-caught, and we mu… said the dark dream, ‘and time is… —And woke into the night; but you…