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
Any news on whether the damage to the bong is permanent? The world needs to know...
They were pretty down about it.
great photo. Such daily injections of beauty are enough to power us on.
Lovely and how lucky, to have a camera at hand and clicking it at the right time.
Thanks for sharing it with all of us.
As for the overheard conversation, sometimes certain things are better left unexplored.
I generally keep it at hand throughout the day most times! I'm like Dirty Harry without all the killing...
Oh! btw, I saw your comment on my photoblog today :-P. Well, that gives you some ideas about my blogging. I used to be an addicted blogger - constantly blogged and visited other blogs; but now since the last three years, hardly anything. Thank you for visiting it :-D