Bush Lemons
Once there was a vineyard here
in green and ordered rows.
Now the bleaching grasses bend
and nothing fruitful grows
except a self-sown lemon tree
with leprous, aching boughs,
heavy with the bitter fruit
come of a daze of flowers.
Strange, ugly and unpromising fruit,
a crop of warted noses,
nothing you present to view
your secret good discloses,
how soaked and simmered long
with drifts of sugar stirred,
you foam and bubble and become
the robust marmalade preferred
by those who scorn the sweeter kind
and in your lucent depths behold
treasure of housewifely sort,
apotheosis, dross to gold.
Barbara Fisher
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