Quiet in Canberra

Words by Sarah, 29 VIC

Clouds call the dust

by name,

grass, what’s left of it

begging for relief

from the dry.

We heard it coming,

freight train of heat

and embers,

ready to clear its path,

lay the world down.

Licked the cattle on the legs,

told us to choose

it was the house or us.

We see it in our sleep

blood-red and raging,

the men in Canberra

lay still,

stay quiet.

Illustration by AileenYou can find more of her work on Instagram @aileenetc

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