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
The Theme Thursday is unusual and interesting.
The blue shoe: Ez
The black and white with yellow inner sole: Henry
The brown one: Yours
The black one: Jen (Hope she doesnt hit me with a virtual broom!!! ;-p)
Now, for the grades.....
Feel better!
Big yellow: you
small black: henry
little blue: ez
Get better soon.
Like the shoes' photo. Reminded me of the Goldilocks and three bears.
Papa bear, Mumma bear, child bear and Goldilocks.
How are my favourite grandsons?
I seem to remember a few that ever went the twenty miles in a blizzard or all uphill or something just as difficult.
Great post. As always you had the Old Salt in stitches.