Legacy
The banker saw no worth in words
so turned down flat that day
the offer of a farmer’s song
as collateral for a loan for seed
At night the farmer returned home
buried his lyrics across furrows
set never to receive the barley
By the morning he was gone
Come the spring in that field
beyond his boarded up house
every small word had sprouted
with such a scent and promise
it brought songbirds flocking
eager to seek each sweet fragment
working the lines day and night
piecing together his old tune.
Until the morning they sang as one
that lost farmer’s final crop
for his harvest was their chorus
and they feasted on his song.
Madam: Archbishop Fisher (July-August 2024) does not resist the attacks on his church by the political, social or scientific atheists and those who insist on not being told what to do.
Aug 29 2024
6 mins
To claim Aborigines have the world's oldest continuous culture is to misunderstand the meaning of culture, which continuously changes over time and location. For a culture not to change over time would be a reproach and certainly not a cause for celebration, for it would indicate that there had been no capacity to adapt. Clearly this has not been the case
Aug 20 2024
23 mins
A friend and longtime supporter of Quadrant, Clive James sent us a poem in 2010, which we published in our December issue. Like the Taronga Park Aquarium he recalls in its 'mocked-up sandstone cave' it's not to be forgotten
Aug 16 2024
2 mins