by Mitch Browne

Cast me from the Tallawalla lookout,
so I can become there,
and you can visit.

Flowering gums hang
snakeskin bunting.

Parrots preach Eocene
through the mist.

Bowerbirds stage
a blue revue
as a fox tail flares
then snuffs in the ferns.

Sandstone steeps
in stoic dissolve.

These you will hear
and these you will see,
wild,
free,
and all of it will be me.