Text: Sheep with Black Faces
Countless trips through
limestone plains and
sclerophyll forests.
Orange scattered in the landscape
by European trees.
Sheep with black faces,
memories of unsealed roads.
The much anticipated moment of crossing the state border.
On a recent trip you comment,
" We have been stopping here for twenty years."
" Really, I guess we have", I reply.
I think to myself, these trees have known me for twenty years.
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