this is where we stand, my love
this is the grass re-trod,
this the lambs frisking trail
seedy beneath gums.
this is the yesterday's brave
exhumation of our love...
it's lost heart's quake and shudder.
This gale and moon perfume
is our bottled place of hearth
in the stark desolation
of paddocks
untilled.
I dream of nails and fence
and rust
And how it binds and will ever
bind
whatever comes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good writing, I like it, thanks, Please read my poems and say something.