The Killer (Judith Wright Poems)
The day was clear as fire,the birds sang frail as glass,when thirsty I came to the creekand fell by its ...
The day was clear as fire,the birds sang frail as glass,when thirsty I came to the creekand fell by its ...
When I was a child I sawa burning bird in a tree.I see became I am,I am became I see.In ...
In the vine-shadows on the veranda;under the yellow leaves, in the cooling sun,sit two sisters. Their slow voices runlike little ...
Under the death of winter's leaves he lieswho cried to Nothing and the terrible nightto be his home and bread. ...
South of my days' circle, part of my blood's country, rises that tableland, high delicate outline of bony slopes wincing ...
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