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Frank Wilmot - Progress
6 Views • Nov 07, 2014
Description
And a trolly with screaming brakes
Noses into the secret bush,
Into the birdless brooding bush,
And the tall old gums it takes.
And down in the sunny valley,
The snorting saw screams slow;
O bush that nursed my people,
O bush that cursed my people,
That flayed and made my people,
I weep to watch you go
Frank Wilmot
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/progress-3/
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