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Mallee desert

The morning in the Great Sandy Desert
is an entirely new narrative of the senses
Thryptomene shrubs and mallee stands
a tonic, a memory, a gift that recompenses
amidst swale and sand tapestry
through solitude and horizons clear
there is no Arabian empty quarter here
for all is life here in vast expression
creeping lizard early and running late
honeyeaters tasting nectar blooms
cryptic patterns across sand in swirls
ancient painting or ritual runes
the desert was up early in cold splendid form

Go to Luke Sweedman's profile to read more poems

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