They stare at
us,
these fuzzy
brown cows
with round
eyes
pausing
mid-chew
with a
quizzical look
as if to say
“Who are
you?”
White-padded
sheep
also shun us
thudding
away on
sturdy legs
drumming
a grassy
retreat.
Pink-throated
galahs
join the
chorus
voicing
their protest
wheeling
in shrill
circles overhead.
They all see
us:
exotic beast
–
part
black-clad man
part
silver-sinewed machine –
tearing
through the
fabric of the greengrey hills
enfolding
the core of
the earth.
We are
alien in appearance
but
inside
at heart
a part
of this wide
wild land.
(Cassy)
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