November 13, 2009


the trees know everything but they guard their mystery –

in the wind they are crazy dancers

Sometimes on a still day i hear one go crashing down…

They change colours continually- violet and naples yellow, wine red and deep brown, milk white and  that greyed eucalypt green-

on  hot days a,  haze of  eucalyptus  oil hangs above the forest in a cloud that colours the distance blue (not purple as i was told before i came here)

i dreamt that that there were children at the edge of the clearing – they were hiding in the trees, shy and laughing- i could see their eyes shining


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