21 July 2016


Its true it was not I who killed the bandicoot; and 
yet we’d grieve no less to have to view its death, 
find it senseless savagery - at best in retrospect, 
wonder who expressed a viciousness in slaying 
such a tiny placid beast out where its peacefully 
existing in rare harmony until it breathes it’s last; 
I’m not aware if there are dingoes loose upon th’ 
hill and haven’t heard their eerie calls this year 

To find a body where you’d not expect t’ see the 
little beast, unless it suffered agonies & crawled 
the hill to find a safer, open place now quietens 
me; in empathy we also live up here, makes an 
empty thought we’d question need if sanctuary; 
at least this bushland angel rests in peace … 
© 9 March 2016, I. D. Carswell