I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral
Comments
I see an assortment of blue colors. Hm.
Hope you're doing all right. Lack of sleep would debilitate any human.
I'm sorry for not regularly visiting your blog these days; I'm so busy with packing my stuff and getting ready for my big trip.
Meead, good luck on the big move!
KL, kids are always ordering their parents about, so no doubt Ezra was trying to give me a message. No doubt it involved breasts.
Dark clothes give a special look to little kids. I even like them in black.
Have a awesome work day!