-
Why
do I stand here, stare about me?
-
Thirty
years are gone since last
-
I
clung, clambered, crashed down sheer
-
gorges'
walls, found this forest.
-
Surely
not merely in memory have I
-
come
here. The blue gums soar, naked
-
smooth,
to where they over arch and,
-
lost
in height, mingle in myriad tongues.
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How
have I got here? Why do I stand?
-
long
looking, long desiring, a fallen
-
trunk,
lichened, mossed, host to ochre
-
red
fungi, falling into mould at my feet?
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I
sink in pungent mould. Blue-grey
-
the
pipes soar to their arches that lull,
-
linger,
leave off, then swell, hail,
-
all
hail in hosannas, in hosannas.
-
by
Roland Robinson
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