I return to thought through the hush of a day
The city slept in. The suburbs fiddled with clocks
While a grand final played out somewhere
Between the bulldogs and souths leaving
The roads eerily empty. Place vacated
Terra Nullius again. The music of quiet.
It takes an emptying
Of time to return rhythm to thought
My polyphonic thought, To Tallis, let us go
Listening for sounds of an age
We could not know. Lamentations
Down under for our privilege
For our oblivion, our ignorance
You wrote, perturbation
You wrote beauty
You wrote harmony
I write gardens
Wondering if we are returning
To one-dimensional sound
Before Byrd turned chant into
Song. The kookaburra ascends
On the old gum tree singing
Who are we? We, We?
We turn refugees
Away away, away away
I return to thought through the lushness of a day
The city slept in. The suburbs retreated from time
While a grand final brought victory to Redfern
Leaving the roads empty. Place reclaimed.
Terra Nullius revoked. We begin and end?
With Tallis, O Elizabeth, what did the age of exploration
Begin, begin, begin begin, begin begin…
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