Mallee in my mind’s eye is mostly a below ground affair
what we see above is only a part of the overall mystery
the multi stems above ground are part of the living heart
that sends a maze of roots below to unknown depths
to anchor, to gather moisture and to prosper forever
 
Like Eucalyptus phylacis anchored high above the bay
A lighthouse, one old mallee, one last and single entity
 
Or sweedmaniana, staring out in deference to the sea
On the grand slopes of Mt Arid, a shrub or is it a tree?
sprawling and gnarled with long lived pliable leaves
like an ancient painting on a landscaped mosaic frieze
 
What inspires the mallees that never die?
where death is feigned above then responded to
with new life as concealed buds burst forth
from a secret underground source
 
Mallees the size of children and some towering high
from coastal cliffs with remnant species still wild
to the forests of jarrah that create wood like iron
standing like beacons along the rivers spine
from the heat of the great western woodlands
in a kaleidoscope of flower and complexity
gripping depauperate soils with temerity
down in the wild lands and the river valley
ubiquitous in forms, the indomitable mallee