Brendan Ryan
canola’s chemical yellow rises above the fence line
Black Poles laze around a dam, ibis and egrets gliding overhead
wattle, casuarina, eucalypt, cypress, radiata
where the bitumen gives way to gravel
taking you deeper into shadows, ditches
tinder undergrowth of a bush block
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Basalt plains, sheep and beef country drying off. The light, intense between showers. I drive
as if my head has been opened up through paddocks blistered from lava flows between bare hills.
The roads dependable as elderly bachelors take me through towns abandoned after the storekeeper dies.
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While my brother milksI return to mist drifting up the fence posts.The night’s sheet slowly evaporatinggiving in to day – already a process of action.
Cows backing off the platformmake their way up the track –the stumps of their tails flicking at fliesthey regard me with surprise.
Three heifers bolt past the day’s paddocktheir routine has been damagedeventually they will find their way b ... (read more)