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A Hundred Gourds 5:1 December 2015

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page 13  

Violet Rose-Jones – Australia


Wandering on the Night of the Burn-Off.


Smoke, red and glowing, delineates the horizon. No night birds call, no rustles in the undergrowth. On the edge of my hearing, I imagine I can hear crackling but it is too far . . .

in a dream
his fragrance returns
restless . . .
with each footfall
the sound of frost

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