The Painting On My Wall

Every time My eyes fall Upon the painting On my wall Its country track Reaches out To the floor Wanting Calling My feet to befall To kick up the dust As it guides me thus To the ancient gum tree Up the track Past the old burnt fence The dry creek Meanders hence I imagine I’d sit In the murmuring grass And write a poem About my furthering Passed ( Heinz Krhuser 1925, SA Landscape, oil }