The lone watch of the moon over mountains old.
Night that is never silent, and none to hark.
Down in the inky pool a fish leaps
With a splash of silver light in the liquid dark.

I walk the unknown ways of a foreign land.
Those dose reeds whisper their secrecies,
And hidden water tunes—earth’s oldest voice.
What alien waif is mined among mindless these?

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Mortality

James Devaney

Summer 1946

Embrace Australia’s finest writers

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Embrace Australia’s finest writers

Poetry

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