Landscape
- danielsacchero
- Sep 28
- 1 min read
Where
nothing is something
and
nowhere is somewhere
a place alive in its stillness
a faint idea of the land
its ranges, its dry creek beds,
perhaps a dream, stories foretold,
deep down culture
populated by magical animals, demigods,
clouded by the grey smoke, a guttural song,
the echoes of the voices following
the tracks of a goanna,
the tracks of people.
A desert rose smiles with its purple flowers
a respite in a choppy sea of spinifex
a breath of clear air, feel alive.
September 2025



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