Of Anubis, jackals, I dream, trample and stamp, looking for the amphibian that moves, through a glass darkly His armour shines, amid croaking sounds An attribution to the burrowing frogs The audience unaware that I in my studio, am aware of the soap opera of species, the teeming life force out there, neurotic nerves, out there in the bushland habitat. Some realisation smacks of growling koalas passing by But speaking in tongues, grammatically, I am connected by many earthshattering sounds and shrilly trilling cicadas, heat No reprisal but many signifiers of Australian summer A flaming bushfire and screaming of foxes in dark night A jangle bell ringing, a visitor to my living room No protection from wildfox, still and wary, flees as I move He assumed danger, the thumping kangaroo…
