Down bush-tracks we adventure again.

Those familiar rocky outcrops of childhood.

Innocent faces, happy smiles going on and on for miles.

Winding babbling creeks,

dam busters!

Water beetles, tadpoles.

Along craggy rock faces, under cliff boulders,

clinging to the edge of reality.

Shaggy crags, huge water holes.

Abandoned water vessels.

Another’s dream.

Pink Boronia,

air-filled scents.

Bare feet splashing, water holes.

Running home just on dark.

That’s freedom.

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