Falls, Basket Swamp,
Boonoo Boonoo National Park

Through soggy heath and sedge
the kangaroo trail drops,
scattering big-fisted rocks
as you struggle to be present.

A gurgle, a trickle, a whispering whoosh,
sips at your spirit.

Cold, clear, gushing, over, around, down giant lizard-grey granite.
A warning wind roars up the gorge.
Desperate fire tempered she-oaks, teeter, cling.

A forest giant, lightning-flung to earth
bridges boulders, a tightrope dare.
Tentacled monster roots still
crunch dreamtime granite bricks.

Rock sitting, late summer sun, spray-thick breath,
something tugs you to the edge.
Far south-east, green ranges collide.

Underfoot, flatweed flower, crevice defying,
crinkles, tweaks
your being hears, feels, listens to …
everything fades, silence,
a  stretched  second  of  nothing.

Boonoo boonoo, Bookookoorara!

This capillary, this vein, this artery,
this life-blood …
even oblivion.


peter burton

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