Carelessly, pestering flies are brushed away and the well-worn shovel-head cracks dry ground.
Lifeless, flat, stretching, flourishing times now ghostly gums breaking through heats mesmerising haze. Debris pile, snakes, good winter warmth in store crosses mind.
Golden sprigs once littered here, thoughts alone company lonely laborious toils.
Founding depth, closing, wide brim in hand sweat wiped a dirt-streaked face, life’s pace; days beginning.
Teeth, grit, dusty dry chalk filled mouth reaches redemption, tin canteen nearby.
She brushes away the flies, shovel-head cracks to ground, this land takes my hand; survive.
Aussie farmlands suffer mother natures purse the people that harness her amaze me.