Australian fiction, poetry, essays, book reviews
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Crumbled slowly from the edge of a cliff

Fragments of stone that will last and last

To some, these stones must seem the lucky ones

They will never lose a job, or lose out in love

Sometimes I stare at their smooth surfaces

And imagine them as appendage to my body

Because once I was something like a stone

A strong thing. A tough, resilient thing. But

Weren't we all once? Before the weariness

Washed over and we found ourselves drained

I kick a few stones and they tumble away

These fragments of stone that will last and last



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