The grand old dame™ at night. May 2010.
Poor old 10 Murray. Every cold winter's evening she awaits her fate...
Trendy open planned coffee shops and a wide screen television.
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
Magpie, get out there!
Do buildings have feelings or emotions do you think?
How ridiculous, to look just like Federation square, in Melbourne. Or any other city with a giant T.V.
One thing though, the deros will have some form of entertainment. As long as they can afford the fare into the city.
Jingle, the Awards gladden my heart!