Poetry

The Digger (Apologies to Rupert Brooke)

The Digger (Apologies to Rupert Brooke) If I should cark it, think only this of me That there’s some corner of a foreign field That is terra Australis. There shall be In that red earth a mate of yours concealed; A bloke Australia bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her sand to scorch, her bush… Continue reading The Digger (Apologies to Rupert Brooke)