Up in thick haze of turpentine country|
eucalypt pervades available air,
while, in dense undergrowth channel-billed cuckoo
calls into silence his song of despair.
There, where long fingers of indigo mountains
tentative, reach into deep sapphire skies,
at last, as the fiery disc disappears westward,
live things gasp for breath, thoughts vaporize.
Beauty abundant, stark, startling, wild...
such is my country and I am her child.
© 2019 cherryk
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