hunting orchids
we set off the bells
of quaking grass
Nathan Sidney
stubble fields . . .
the long highway
to his wake
Earl Livings
summer byway—
i roll down the window
and become dog
Sandra Simpson
dry spell
travelling stock forage
the long paddock
Kent Robinson
a blizzard of petals—
we all laugh
in the same language
Sandra Simpson
autumn sky
another flock
heading north
Quendryth Young
Echidna Tracks 