I would rise early
and sit with our dog,
watching the sun rise
over the vast desert plain
that surrounded our tiny bush town.
I remember
the jangling hobbles of camels
returning from a night in the desert.
I remember
how I treasured
the solitude.
For some years in my prime
I worked in the bush,
traveling alone on miles of tracks.
I remember
the fine edge of risk,
and the knowledge
that things could go wrong.
I remember
how I treasured
the solitude.
As an old man
I sometimes stand
near our country home
and watch the sun set.
And I treasure
the solitude.
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