Kent Robinson
an iron bark fire, we snuggle within the warmth in the hills a first star twinkles through frost and all the trees are aflame Bathurst willy wags his tail in the wattle through midday heat the somnolent drone of bees…
an iron bark fire, we snuggle within the warmth in the hills a first star twinkles through frost and all the trees are aflame Bathurst willy wags his tail in the wattle through midday heat the somnolent drone of bees…