spinifex plain
a lingering mystery
in the land
we breathe quietly
lest we wake the serpent
a bower
that once held
a granite egg
rolled by the wind’s beak
warmed beneath the sun’s feathers
the wide circles
of a whistling kite
below
a frill-necked lizard
disappears in a crack
a huge rock
balanced on a finger
of stone
I reach down for a pebble
shaped like the moon
the sun
drops to the horizon
cameras ready
we are silenced
as rocks glow red
dingoes
howl into the night
silhouettes
and hushed voices
around the campfires