#41 11.2.16: Mamelon at Hanging Rock by Myron Lysenko

towering rocks
a hundred metres
above us

we climb the steps

that wind between

bodies of  rock 

i'm puffing

                 as we climb
                          a cockatoo's cry





giant rocks
       surround us
two ants

the first part

always the hardest—

we rest on The Saddle

my biographer shows

me a banksia between rocks

             blowfly





poa    in    clumps
in    the    crevices
      l i c h e n

poa seeds

in his outstretched palm
the panorama

brown butterfly

on top of the white flower—

unknown bush

butterflies

over the top of the summit
we talk about racism

pinnacle

the branch closest to the sky
is dead

what if I fall?
he says it would be good

for the book

once
again 
I try
to climb
the pinnacle—

dead limb
in a cave

on top—

he gets a text
from his wife

old men—

we cannot reach

the pinnacle

all over the top

of Hanging Rock
bright blue sky




some lost people

point us the way down—

sunshine through gums

wisp of cloud

we talk about

             affairs

back at the bottom search for toilets

picnic racecourse two kangaroos hop around the track

carpark—

we talk about the expensive
beer

nature reserve
we have to pay
to get out






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