770
Katoomba cliffwalk
in
rocks among the forest
slow
not still buts falls
and leaf wing flit
where dark comes past
the day
dragging
all upwards with cliffs
they're the suddenness
now I've come down
roots hoofsmooth here
all fern beside
legs stretched
the fallen
all logs and leaves
stringybark draped
we are breathless up
make a circuit of
ourselves
can only be seasons
since
a forest of the rain
was made
smell it thick with
summer dry
hear the last frog
dusk proclaiming
how his hers was a
tribe
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