A Night In the Bush

. Out in the bushland, no street lights around No sheltering tent, we lay on the ground Close by a green pool and Kurrajong tree Alone by ourselves, just Willow and me The bushland at night is dark as black tar A million bright twinkles, each one a star The moon, just a sliver, riding up high No clouds to obscure, and rain a far cry Way off in the distance low eerie moans Raised hairs on my neck, a chill in my bones But Willow just snuffled, curled in a ball No fright in her hackles, no fear at all Slow dying embers, a lone dingo’s cry A night in the bushland under the sky