susie anderson help me identify this season
grass grown long with mornings of dew. stepping over cold uneven ground your shoelaces fill with prickles. emus drink from misty dams as you walk through the foggy paddock whispering "i deserve better. everything is fine". you inhale the present moment, walk over a small bridge and feel powerful. fresh air eats at you – a punishment for absence – asking sweetly "where have you been?". sunbeams make the clear day seem blurry. this is landscape that looms: mountains sit solitary and the air consumes you. there is safety in the knowledge that things go slow in the country. the mountain is your father, your mother, your sisters. white people named it for Scotland, but we A FFECTI ON ATE I S S U E
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