Coral Hull: Poetry: The North Woods: A Country Crazy With Stars

I MACKENZIE KNIGHT I A CHILD OF WRATH A GOD OF LOVE I FALLEN ANGELS EXPOSED I

CORAL HULL: THE NORTH WOODS
A COUNTRY CRAZY WITH STARS

She said, 'Australia is awesome. It's all really different down there. And the stars, so many stars. Your night skies are really messed up. It's a country crazy with stars!' I said, 'there's a lota stars down there, and gums shedding bark in the hot nocturnal dark, and the flying foxes roaring in from a tepid Kuranda night, to drink the fruit and a solitary phastigale edging into extinction along a window sill at Castlemaine, during the hour when the kookaburra falls silent. At dawn and dusk the island laughs at those who approach it from beach and bay. It offers reefs, gulfs and estuaries, salt pans and baking stones at forty degrees celcius. 'You have so many parrots, so many bright birds. I love those pink and grey ones!' She was right. New South Wales is infested with galahs and white cockatoos, glorifying in brown flood water of the Murrumbidgee after drought, cracking open seed pods, amongst the burrs and red river gums, with strong hooked beaks. There is much to tell about mulga and spinifex and so many secrets. The big desert island blowing dunes across its parched granite backbone and laughing in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. 'Our mystery is from the heart,' I said. 'While you have the deep north that ends and begins with a magnetic ocean, the centre of the country that I belong to is an infinite red.'

    

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