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Red Heart
 
This heart,
right in the centre of Australia,
where roads are dusty red
and skins are brown;
where attempts at 'integration'
were a failure...
and will be,
while the white on black look down.

Touches to the senses
out here are quite unique,
with the pounding, pulsing rhythm
of the didge*.
Snakes and lizards
venture outdoors
when the sun is at its peak
but the only trip you make
is to the fridge*.

Vivid colours of the bush
delight one's eyes,
as a million birds
descend on branch and bough;
timid kangaroo takes off
in shy surprise,
I would paint a picture
if I just knew how.

He who mixed my palette colours
knows His stuff,
though I paint my country bright,
the living's tough.




* didge...didgeridoo.
Musical instrument

* fridge...refrigerator


By cherryk

© 2018 cherryk (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: Anything Goes - AG (challenge has been closed)


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