Kraal

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Old corrugated sheets shake, high-pitched in the wind
Crisp, clear, cutting winter wind
Storerooms, clouded with dust, abandoned broken tools
The smell of a distant, diesel-fuelled, productive time
Broken glass pieces on the shed floor, reflecting the tired, pale afternoon sun
As dusk settles with the dust, cattle dreams still linger

Also by Heidi Henning

Autumn

Birdsong

 

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