Sonnet |
0002 |
Lamplit I work in the shoals of the night
|
Sonnet |
0020 |
In almost every place I make my camp
|
Sonnet |
0022 |
My camel sways along in sullen grief
|
Sonnet |
0027 |
One perfect, windless, starlit, moonless night
|
Sonnet |
0219 |
A desert tends to clarify all thought
|
Sonnet |
0692 |
One afternoon near Lightning Ridge in May
|
Sonnet |
0518 |
Most men who live in cities see few stars
|
Sonnet |
0519 |
November! And our gift returns again
|
Sonnet |
0520 |
The Olgas are Australia's heart and mind
|
Sonnet |
0521 |
I am a man of wisdom and no god
|
Sonnet |
0522 |
When Eliot told about the gifts of age
|
Sonnet |
0523 |
Bright stars outined celestial city streets
|
Sonnet |
0524 |
The constellations arch across the sky
|
Sonnet |
0525 |
This spot is sand and stunted mulga scrub
|
Sonnet |
0526 |
No scale of size, or time, or distance holds
|
Sonnet |
0527 |
The pure achievement of the aging mind
|
Sonnet |
0528 |
Indeed; I failed at everything I did
|
Sonnet |
0529 |
Wide deserts of my land reflect my brain
|
Sonnet |
0530 |
Sydney's Nor-Easter likes to sleep in late
|
Sonnet |
0877 |
The life-lorn dingo's sadly haunting calls
|