country in the cave is a woman alone - she
is twisted by voices of blood painted crevice
- her body brushes lightly the ancestral stone
country in the woman - she holds the folding
sandstone skin as the blood of stories in
rock runs dry - she hears the cry of curlew
woman in the cave - she knows of dreams
that do not wake - it has taken two hundred
years to rape her womb - murdered in its sleep
country in the woman - now thumping her
life blood into the sun - now spitting
ochre onto ochre with outstretched palms
country in the cave is a woman alone - the
blood clay weeps from her ancient breast - her
lifetimes of dreaming are leaving the stone
