I.
Up wallaby tracks
On hillsides of granite tors
Welcomed by rice flowers
II.
I ascend hillsides
Tripping over my own ghost
Calling long dead dogs
III.
The caladenia
That unfurls each delicate
blue finger; waving
IV.
Across open plains from
lichen covered stone, I look
to Mount Kooyoora
V.
The casuarina
On mountain-side, have gathered
Whispering observations
VI.
A long forgotten
familiar tongue, all but me
Are in their place
VII.
Bright Inflorescence
The acacias dance warms
The cool breeze at dusk
VIII.
My children are here
Unfolding their love into
This expanse... open
IX.
Their eyes bright and keen
Embracing, laughing and free
Our homes are many
